The Making of Jack Sparrow
by Tinkabelle21
Summary: Complete. Who ever said that the boat Jack sunk in Port Royal was Ana-Marie’s? This is straight after the movie, and how Jack and Ana-Maire first met my way, and how Jack became Captain Jack Sparrow. JAM
1. For Love of Jack

Author Note  
  
Okay, first Fan fiction, so play nice with flamessss. And if the geography is wrong then I say this THINGS WERE DIFFERENT IN THOSE DAYS okay? (I never took geography and never will. When are you ever going to need a map in real life? Huh? Cars what? What do you mean India isn't part of Australia? ()  
  
Who ever said that the boat Jack sunk in Port Royal was Ana-Marie's? This is straight after the movie, and how they first met my way, and how Jack became Captain Jack Sparrow. J/AM  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, Disney own all. (But I am hoping to buy Jack Sparrow's hat in down payments.)  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Ana Marie stared out her small window gloomily. The darkening waves did little to improve her mood, knowing that this boat was no longer hers. The Pearl, and the promise of freedom she held, had been gifted on another.  
  
And Ana-Marie was just another sailor on this rotting tub. While that Sparrow usurped her, again.  
  
She shook her head wearily, trying to shake of the angry thoughts. There was no one to blame but herself for this.  
  
It had been her choice after all, with heavy persuasions from Gibb's and the rest of the crew, to save Jack Sparrow. To rescue him from the gallows once again. Even though it had required asking for help from that Turner boy, who now thought just because he'd helped Jack defeat Barbossa that he was a pirate, she'd done it. That ridiculous hat that the boy wore! She'd had to stop herself laughing at the size of the feather.  
  
Her cabin was tiny, her chamber being segregated from the rest of the crew for obvious reasons, which Ana-Marie had had to prove by breaking two sailors arms. Neither the less, she had her own cabin now, though it was not as nice as the one she had enjoyed during her time as captain.  
  
Its walls bore little decoration, the sound of the water being enough for Ana-Marie. Forced nighttime separation from the rest of the crew made her the butt for rude jokes varying from her night attire to "visits" from the captain.  
  
Though very little was known about Captain Jack Sparrow, every sailor on the Pearl had recognised the slap of a slighted lover. Not that there would be any more of those visits, Ana-Marie thought angrily.  
  
Few had known Jack before he was the captain of the Black Pearl. Ana-Marie counted herself as one of the few unlucky ones that had. Everyone has to make a start somewhere, Ana-Marie thought grimly, and it just so happened Jack made his at the expense of yours truly.  
  
No, tonight she was not in a good mood. She had once again relinquished a ship, which should have rightfully been hers since someone, other wise known as that-bastard-son-of-a-bitch, had sunk the HER Interceptor.  
  
Stupid Jack.  
  
She knew he was outside her door before he opened it (like Jack Sparrow would ever knock if he thought he could get an eyeful of a lass changing). She had recognised his footsteps. She could recognise them anywhere because of the stupid erratic gait of his. Old Jack had always been an excentric.  
  
Part of his charm, she remembered once saying.  
  
In the last ten years though, he'd developed some peculiar habits.  
  
She ran her fingers through her already frizzing hair, scowling at her woeful black pirate nails. She remembered the absolute perfect ness of that Bitch Elizabeth's nails.  
  
Only that girl could get away with being kidnapped by un-dead pirates, engage in sword fights between two pirate ships, get stranded on a desert isle with a womanising captain, and save the man she loved from certain death without breaking a nail.  
  
"Jack Sparrow, if you even think about trying anything, I'll send you to the briny deep myself." Ana-Marie said smoothly as she turned around. Jack Sparrow was leaning against the doorframe, his kohl eye make up smudged.  
  
"Captain, Captain Jack Sparrow," He corrected flashing her his gold teeth. She simply raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Captain, get the hell out of my room." Ana-Marie snarled. Jack placed his hand on his heart mockingly.  
  
"You'd think from your manor Ana-Marie," He drawled, and she suppressed a shudder. Damn him. "That you weren't happy to see me."  
  
"I wonder how you got that bloody impression Jack." She hissed lowly, acutely aware that the door was open, and that the entire crew could probably hear her.  
  
Jack wagged a finger at her. He shifted, his braids clinking slightly as he moved. He shifted from the door, collapsing on her thin bunk and extended himself out full on it, his hands relaxed comfortably over his head. Ana- Marie sighed, closing the door behind him, and leaning against it heavily. "What do you want Jack?" She said defeated.  
  
"You're unusually glum tonight, poppet" He said, his eyes trailing the low wooden ceiling. "Eating dinner by yourself in this little room, without even a sip of rum to welcome your Captain home. Anyone might think that you were avoiding me."  
  
"I thought you'd be making love to your helm by now, the way you fondle it." She said scathingly, her hand pulling her black hair back into a high ponytail. Gold earrings glinted at her earlobes  
  
"'Do love the Pearl." Jack murmured. Ana-Maria shifted. "But what have you been thinking about, sulking down here Ana-Marie?" He raised his hands. "And please, not another slap."  
  
"For your information, saving your scrawny neck once again lost me the job as Captain. I have no reason to celebrate tonight. Being Captain's the only thing I've ever loved," She raged, the words spilling out of her.  
  
She halted suddenly. A memory of saying those words to Jack spun before her eyes, his face so much younger, his eyes bristling with desire and curiosity. She'd thought him just a young sailor, beautiful and brave, ready to be moulded. She'd thought the desire in his eyes were for her.  
  
But she was wrong. He was not just another sailor, he was her curse and his desire was for the sea and the hope her words had kindled that day. Ana- Marie thrust the memory aside.  
  
"You know, that year after I found out how you had betrayed me Jack, I spat on the ground at the name Sparrow. I called down every black wind upon you, and drank to your downfall when you went after the treasure of the Ile De Murte." She said quietly.  
  
She saw him still, his face unreadable.  
  
"If you want to know what I've been doing down here, I've been thinking about how we met. About Johnny Jackson, the son of a Mexican whore and a English plantation owner. That was a pretty tail you spun me that night. I've often wondered if such a story, coming from the mouth of the famous Captain Jack Sparrow could ever be true." She spat out, watching the way his body responded at her words, the slight tremor that ran down him. The lamp overhead swung uneasily.  
  
Jack sat up, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He tilted his head.  
  
"Ah well, love, truth's a funny thing. But we didn't call her a whore back then." Jack extended a be-ringed hand. "Still doing the same ol'dance are we, Ana? Come here love, I want to see it your skin is a smooth as I remember."  
  
Ana-Mare moved, her trews brushing the leg of the small table, and stood a step in front of him. She took his hand with her own, feeling the healing cut that had torn across his corse palm. Heavy shadows played across Sparrow's face, his thumb rubbing the Ana-Marie's the mocha coloured skin. Ana-Marie raised her other hand, resting it gently on the side of his face, wise enough not to attempt to run it through the dark matt that was his hair.  
  
"Ah, Ana." He murmured. He moved, his arm sliding around her waist, pulling her closer. She stood above him, gazing down into his face, searching his eyes. He moved up to kiss her, but she shifted away from him.  
  
"Jack, I'm not another one of your whore's from Tortugua. The Pearl is my home now. I'm not going to screw that up for you. Savvy?" She said, the last word bringing a hint of a smile to his mouth. And what a mouth, Ana- Marie thought.  
  
"Ana, you've changed so little. Well," He said, his eyes clouding with thought. "Less then me, but then I seem too age so well."  
  
"Yeah, you're still a rum-soddened old pirate with really bad accessories." Ana-Marie retorted. Jack smiled distractedly, his hand touching the scar on her collarbone cautiously.  
  
"Can it really have been eleven years?" He said. She gazed over his head, at the bare walls of her cabin.  
  
"Yes, it's been eleven years,"  
  
* * * * *  
  
What do you think? Good? Bad? Evil? Please read and review. 


	2. AnaMarie's ship was Ship sized

* * * * * *  
  
Ana-Marie sat in her father's cabin, her head bowed in prayer. At eighteen, she was as tall and bold as she had been at twelve. Her whole life, she had been raised on a ship, taught by the large hands of the pirates how to tie sailors knots and how to cleanse a wound.  
  
Her life that she remembered, anyway.  
  
Her father had taught her how to sword fight at eight, and he would sit her on his shoulders, laughing as he steered the ship. When battle came, no one noticed the small black girl peeking through one of the portholes, or helping load the canon.  
  
Ana-Marie's father, Gull, was as black as night and a hardened sailor. He went by no other name, and was the captain of the Portella, named after Ana- Maire's mother, who had died in slavery. Ana-Marie had lived happily with her mother, who was well off with the money her pirating husband sent her.  
  
Little Ana remembered little of her mother, other then the fish wife hands that held her so tight and secure, and taught her to count the smooth rocks by the river. Then she turned three and her mother was captured and murdered by slavers.  
  
With little other chose, Gull had taken his little girl aboard his ship, and raised her with pirates as a family.  
  
And now he was dying of fever. Beads of sweat lay on his brow, and his room was stiflingly hot. His daughter, who knew little of god or prayers, simply bowed her head and repeated over and over again "Please do not take my father from me lord,"  
  
It was thus that Barl found them, the beautiful and fierce new captain of their ship kneeling by her dying fathers bed. He coughed. She rose from the bedside, her face still covered with streaks of tears, but her eyes sharp and emotionless.  
  
"What?" She snapped, her fingers reaching for her sword.  
  
"Stow-away. He was in one of them wine-barrels we commandeered." Barl said gruffly, avoiding the black woman's eyes.  
  
"He?"  
  
"Yes. Carlos and Turner are. they are taunting the boy."  
  
"Damnations," Ana-Marie swore, striding out of the cabin, with Barl a step behind her. "When those two have nothing to vent their frustrations on, they bloody well come up with something. Who is this boy?"  
  
"I don't know." Barl replied, following Ana-Maire as she stormed her way to the hold.  
  
The sight that they met was not a pretty one. Most of the sailors stood in a ring, watching the proceedings. Someone had supplied the boy with a sword, but Ana-Marie could tell his arm was hurt from the awkward angle he held the sword at. The boy bore scratches across his chest and was circling Carlos with a weary fierceness.  
  
This was Ana-Marie's first sight of Captain Jack Sparrow.  
  
* * * * * * * * * He stood half proud, his face pale and untouched by the sun. He contrasted strongly with the well-worn pirates that surrounded him, their hands and teeth yellowed by rum and nicotine, they faces scoured with daily battles.  
  
The slurs and yelling came gradually to a hold, as the pirates saw the Captain's daughter on the stair well. She strode into the middle of the circle, whirling on Turner, the first mate of the ship.  
  
"Explain yourself Turner. What the hell is this?" She gestured at the boy, who dropped on one knee, his breathing jagged.  
  
"Just having some fun, Ana," He halted at her gaze. "Mam, its been a long voyage," He mumbled. Turner was privately cursing himself. Bloody Barl, that little snitch. First distraction they've had after six weeks of water, water and more bloody water.  
  
"Yeah, we's just having some fun with da boy." Carlos slurred. He was a skinny mean looking Spanish pirate, two teeth capped with gold and part of his ear lobe missing. Carlos had an annoying habit to rub his fingers together. He jumped as he felt Ana-Marie's blade pressed to his neck.  
  
"What did you say Carlos?" She said stonily.  
  
"Uh, nothing."  
  
"And what is our policy on stowaways?" She said, gazing at him along the metal of her blade.  
  
Carlos gulped.  
  
"Find out their name, age and pur.purpose. And then bring him to the captain unharmed until the captain decides we can carve him." Carlos gulped again as the blade was pushed further against his skin and rephrased his words. "Decides what's to be done with him. According to the code, mam."  
  
The other pirates had begun to edge away, and up the stairs, the ones that knew what was good for them. Some, however, were transfixed by the scene.  
  
"So who is this boy?" Ana-Marie asked sweetly.  
  
"I don't. I dun know." Carlos stuttered.  
  
"So you didn't find out who he was, didn't come and tell me and broke ship rules on stowaways, did ja Carlos?" He nodded as much as the blade pressed to his throat would allow. "I think that's two weeks scrubbing the decks. And you won't be leaving the ship when we arrive in Tortugua, Carlos. Does that sound fair to you?"  
  
"Yes," He replied hastily. She returned her blade to its sheath, her fingers lingering there as she turned thoughtfully to the boy, who had dropped to his knees.  
  
"I see you know how to handle a blade boy, and your footwork is good, very light. Who are you boy?" The boy looked up through a veil of brown hair and drew himself up to standing. He was taller then Ana-Marie, but was favouring his right shoulder.  
  
"John Jackson." He said, and licked his lips. He glanced curiously around at the pirates watching him, and swooped into a slightly theatrical bow. "At your service." The pirates tittered (in a manly way of course).  
  
Ana-Marie watched him coldly. What passed through her mind was unperceivable.  
  
"How old are you Jackson?" She asked.  
  
"Sixteen." He paused before saying it, drawing in a ragged breath. Turner shifted awkwardly at the gaze he received from Ana-Maire.  
  
"Only sixteen."  
  
"I was only sixteen when I got it the fight that left this scar on my face." Turner said lowly, fingering his jaw line. Ana-Maire's gaze flicked to his arm, when Turner was holding a blood soddened strip of fabric over a wound.  
  
"He cut you Turner? What an achievement. You'd better get that seen too."  
  
"Yes mam." Turner said, avoided her eye.  
  
"All of you get to work you scurvy dogs. Barl, acquaint Carlos with his new duties, and Crow, get the cook to prepare diner. Tell him there will be no rum for Carlos or Turner tonight. Vincent, you stay." The other pirates departed quickly, and Jackson wondered blearily through the pain why they were taking orders from this slip of a girl.  
  
He was surprised when she passed him a flask. He sipped it cautiously, and felt an unknown fiery liquid burning his throat.  
  
"Its rum." Ana-Marie muttered.  
  
She hoisted herself up on a crate, and gestured for him to do the same. He did, through rather less gracefully. Ana-Marie assessed his wounds with a quick glace. They were just scratches, none deep. Her boys had just been playing with him.  
  
"So, Jackson, what are you doing on my ship?" She asked.  
  
"Your ship?" The boy echoed disbelievingly. Vincent made a movement as though to hit him for his insolence, but Ana-Marie shook her head, stilling him.  
  
"My ship, or it very soon will be." She confirmed passively, though inwardly she wanted to weep as she acknowledged her fathers passing.  
  
"I.I." The boy paused, lost for words.  
  
"Wanted to become extremely well acquainted with the insides of a wine barrel?" Ana-Marie asked quite pleasantly. The boy shuddered, and swayed slightly on his perch on the crate.  
  
"Vincent, this boy is half dead with exhaustion. No matter how good his footwork is, he's not going to do anymore dancing tonight. Feed him, and find him a bunk to sleep in, and I'll get answers out of him in the morning."  
  
"Aye," The big pirate shouted, and Ana-Marie smiled.  
  
"Oh, and on second thoughts, tell Turner that our little Sparrow here is his charge, Savvy?" Vincent pulled the wine soddened boy up, hoisted him over his shoulder, and left.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * 


	3. Happy last thoughts, Pirate

* * * * * * * * * * "Ah, my finest hour when you and I met." Captain Jack Sparrow said. "Eleven years ago, and cut to pieces, and I can still remember how gorgeous you looked when you stormed into the hold. All that beautiful black hair, that chocolate skin and well, these breasts." Jack said, pulling Ana-Marie into an embrace.  
  
She shoved him hard, so that he fell back on the bed, and kissed him slowly. His hand ran over her ponytail, releasing her hair in a fluid motion. She felt the scratch of his beard against her chin, and paused.  
  
"You were thinking about my breasts, when you were in a bleeding to death in a room full of enemy pirates?"  
  
"Well, I wanted my last thoughts to be happy." Sparrow sniggered.  
  
"Womaniser to the end," Ana-Marie whispered, tracing a scar hidden under his eyebrow. She kissed it softly, letting him kiss her neck and hearing him whisper in her ear,  
  
"Well, speaking of that." His hands were working their way up the back of her shirt, before she pulled away slightly.  
  
"No, Jack, I can't do this." She spluttered, pulling away, removing his hands from what they had been doing. He nodded.  
  
"I know. I hurt ya lass, and that can't be undone." She rested her head on his chest, and he pulled his arm around her comfortingly. He kissed the top of her head. Then his hands started to rove again.  
  
"Jack! What the exactly to do think you're doing?"  
  
"Something that can't be done by my onesies." Jack murmured suggestively.  
  
"I'm not going to sleep with you just because I'm the only woman on board."  
  
"Love, you know that's not the only reason I'm here. If I were really that desperate, I could always go and pillage Gibbs."  
  
"Jack!"  
  
"Sparrow?" Turner murmured, glancing down at the boy who was now in his charge. "Bloody bollixing mutt more like it. Should have just had Carlos toss him overboard, but no, let's have some fun first. And now whose bloody cabin is he sleeping in?"  
  
Turner removed his boots, and spread himself out on the bed on the opposite wall. He listened to the kid's shallow breathing, and tried not to pity him.  
  
"Kid, hope you enjoyed that meal, cause its probably going to be the last one you gets. Can't remember the time a stowaway wasn't made to walk the plank on the Portella. The little Minx may be young, but she's got blood made of steel just like her father. Good man Gull." Turner, whose eyes had grown distant for a moment, refocused on the boy.  
  
Sparrow's eyes were open.  
  
"Water." He rasped, and then paused. "Or Rum?" Turner sighed. He pulled out a flask wrapped in leather, passing it to the boy.  
  
"Don't let the missus know about that. She's cutting of my rum rights cause of you." Turner grumbled.  
  
The boy was continuing to gaze at Turner so intensely that he felt uncomfortable, remembering the way he had baited the boy earlier. The boys closed his eyes and turned to face the wall, his throat and his wounds burning.  
  
Turner shivered at the sadness in the boy's eyes. He'd seen that look before, in old pirates too worn by the sea and by fate.  
  
"Ah, the sea's a cruel mistress. That she is." Turner muttered to his self before extinguishing the light.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
"How's our little stowaway this morning, Vincent?" Ana asked, her hands resting nonchalantly on the helm.  
  
"Turner's teaching the kid how to tie knots to keep him busy, till you know what you want to do with him." Vincent said, spitting on the sword he was polishing as he said it. A once red scarf covered his shaved head and he bore a ragged scar down his cheek.  
  
"Has anyone found out what he was about hiding in our wine barrels?" Ana-Marie asked, opening her compass, and frowning, her mind elsewhere. Vincent glanced up at her.  
  
"Don't think he's had a pretty lot in life mam. What he's let slip is that he was kicked out of his home and family none to recently, practically hounded out of his home town from the way its sounds." Ana-Marie frowned at the compassion in the seasoned pirates voice. This kid seemed to be getting to him.  
  
"Hmm. A sob story." She said, non-committed.  
  
"Maybe. Its good though, having the spare set of hands, specially after me lost Murvy." Murvy had died in the last raid, axe to the head. Bloody blacksmiths. Vincent continued, earnestly. "And he's been an awful good sport about last night."  
  
"Hmm." Ana-Marie repeated, watching the Sparrow joking with Crow and Blackburn. Her own opinions on Sparrow, she did not voice.  
  
It was long after dark before Ana-Marie dared to drop anchor. With the Navy still looking for them, she dared not stop at a port. Which meant another night with frustrated pirates. That last stop had almost been disastrous, and they were only there for three hours.  
  
Long enough to pick up a bloody stowaway though.  
  
A bloody stowaway who was currently disturbing Ana-Marie's train of thought and TOUCHING HER HELM!  
  
"Boy, what the hell do you think your doing?" Ana-Marie asked coldly. He seemed to be mesmerised by it. She slapped his hands impulsively, and was rewarded with a sheepish grin from the stowaway.  
  
"Well, luv.uh.. missus," Jackson corrected himself. "Turner said you'd want to speak to me, before, well, before we arrived in Tortugua."  
  
"We won't be in Tortugua for five days, Boyo," Ana-Marie said condescendingly. Though she was a few months short of being two years older then him, she was increasingly finding it a necessity to keep this boy in his place.  
  
"Yes, but Turner what's to chuck me over board. uh. now. And he wanted to know it if that was okay." Ana-Marie considered it for a second. The faintest traces of a smile touched her face  
  
"Why is Turner in such a hurry to throw you overboard boy? And more to the point, why shouldn't I let him?"  
  
"Well, Turner says that my stupidity may become infectious." Jackson grinned bemusedly and Ana-Marie rolled her eyes.  
  
"Jackson, I don't think you'll ever be able to name charm as one of your assets. Savvy?" Jackson grinned.  
  
"Savvy? An I supposed to say Aye?" The boy asked cheekily. Ana-Marie ignored the comment, looking to the calm waters for reassurance. Intuition told her that this boy would come in useful.  
  
"Jackson, I've a mind to make a sailor out of you. You're good with a blade and we need another hand on deck. Don't make trouble, and the Portella could be a good start for you." Ana-Marie said, scanning the boys reactions. He looked puzzled. "And if you don't want to join the crew, you can walk the plank." She added sweetly.  
  
"Don't you want to hear why I'm hear?" The boy asked, his cool façade dissolved. For a second, he was just a scared boy on a ship for of strangers. Ana-Marie had the strangest urge to wrap her arms around him.  
  
"Look kid, everyone here's an outcast in one way or another. Each has got his own story to tell if you got the time to listen to it. From what I hear, you got chased out of your home, and I'm offering you a new one. What do you say, John?" He started at the use of his name. He'd been called boy and kid and occasionally Jackson so often during the day that he'd started to wonder if maybe they didn't know his first name.  
  
"Aye." He said, and Ana-Marie saw a flash of steel in his eyes.  
  
"Then come downstairs and I'll introduce you to the captain."  
  
* * * * * * * * * 


	4. The Tale of Jack Sparrow

Jack's Story (May have taken a tiny bit of inspiration from the movie Don Juan! Johnny Depp is god.) Please Read and Review and I will send part of Jack Sparrow's hat when I "commandeer" it off Disney. Muahahaha.  
  
Disclaimer. I OWN NOTHING  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
Jackson sat by the fire, watching the girl feeding her father soup. His eyes noted everything, from the sway of her hips to the pull of her shirt around her breasts. Never before had he seen such a woman. There was only one woman who had ever really mattered in Jackson's life, and he'd left her miles behind.  
  
"So, Jackson," The woman started, breaking his reverie. "What did you do that got you kicked out of your home?" Her skin was flushed from the heat of the room, her hair clinging slightly to the back of her neck. She settled herself in the seat opposite him, the fire playing shadows across her face.  
  
Then he opened his mouth, and found the words spilling out of him.  
  
"I stole the virtue of a rich British woman.." At that, Jackson managed to look sheepish. It was fitting to think, Ana-Marie thought later, that all of the turning point's in Jack's life were, in one way or another, based on the virtue of a woman.  
  
"My mother, god save her soul, was the poor daughter of a fisherman, and married at sixteen to another fisherman, twice her age. By twenty, she had born two children, both who died of before their second birthday. Alonzo, her husband, loved her neither the less, and it was thought that they would survive the harsh lot that fate had dealt them."  
  
"Unfortunately for them, Sir Daniel de Palfrey, a British noble, became the governor of my town, Port Calum. More unfortunately for them, Sir Daniel became obsessed with my mother. It is said that they met on the grassy hills of the beaches, as she waved off Alonzo's boat. Sir Daniel took one look at the beautiful little Mexican woman, and swore she would be his."  
  
"It mattered little that she was married, or that he did not hold her heart. Few things moved my mother; she was better suited for a convent then the marriage bed. He pursued her, and finally she relented, and Sir Daniel, who was only twenty six, took her outside her husbands home, with the rolling waves as witness. Thus, my mother conceived me."  
  
"After that, Alonzo was murdered, his home burnt to the ground, and his ship sunk. My mother was taken to Sir Daniel's house, and they were married while I grew in her stomach."  
  
"My mother's family wept the day of her marriage to the white devil, but wept even more the day of the discovery a year later that Sir Daniel was already married, making my mother's marriage a farce. And so my sweet mother, cherished wife of Alonzo and unconsenting adulterous, became a whore in the eyes of my people."  
  
"Sir Daniel's wife was a proud blonde woman named Nadia, with a two year old daughter from a previous marriage. Sir Daniel and his wife had been married back in England, where she had stayed with her daughter while her father died. Then she had followed her husband out to their new life as plantation owners."  
  
"The affair, as it was called, with my mother ended there. She was sent to a convent, her name blackened and her life ended there.  
  
"I, on the other hand, was brought up as a servant in the house of my father."  
  
"It was there, as I grew up, where I learnt to fight and also to steal. Nadia bore her second child, a son who they called Tom, ten months after her arrival and my mother banishment. At that time, I was only an infant, raised by the housekeeper and butler. As I grew, it was generally accepted that I was the son of the housekeeper. Sir Daniel felt guilty enough to raise me in his household, giving me lessons with his true son, teaching us the blade together."  
  
"My job, as I grew older, was to serve Nadia's other child, Julia. She was. she was the most sweet child in the world. She was her mother's joy, and her stepfather's pride. A tiny little blonde child she was, her eyes the sparkling blue of the summer sea."  
  
"She was sent away when I was twelve, when I could best Tom in a sword fight. She was fourteen, and it was worried that she was too prone to danger, now that she was becoming a woman. It was true enough. Julia snuck out of the villa, to find her secret places or to join Tom and I on our own childish quests. As she grew, she drew the eyes of the men of the village, and so she was sent away."  
  
"For three years, she went to a British finishing school. During her absence, the great Sir Daniel was made governor. As I grew into my manhood, it became hard for Lady Nadia to ignore the similarities between my features and Sir Daniel's. She took a lover, and Tom blamed me for this. Thus, I found no friendship nor support from him."  
  
"When Julia returned, she was the height of British beauty and manners. Her hair was fine and blonde, unlike any of the girls in our town, (who I had already begun experimenting with). But none of them compared to my Julia."  
  
"Perhaps unwisely, Sir Daniel decided it would be good to have Julia further my education so that I could make a life for myself in the British business."  
  
"I spent my nights dreaming about her, and my days watching her. She flirted with me in return, driving me wild with hands and her honeyed words. In the end, she kissed me. We were sitting in the pergola. I was reciting poetry to her. At the end when I got it right, I asked for a reward. She asked me what reward could she give me. And I told her truthfully, a kiss. Her kiss, which I had been dreaming about all summer long, tasted of honey and sweetness."  
  
"From there, our affair escalated. She was, and had always been, a rebellious girl. She hated her brother Tom, and used me to bait him. In many ways, I was simply the means for her to flout her father and mother. She toyed with me and used me, like all woman do."  
  
"She took me down to the river, were the reeds bent beneath the foot and where white and purple flowers grew. There, she undressed before me.  
  
"I was just fifteen."  
  
"After that, she undressed before me every night for three weeks, until Sir Daniel and Nadia caught us, me wearing nothing but a shirt and socks. Julia, to her credit, did not bat an eyelid. She kissed me, and said 'you'd better run,' while my father called the guards. My last words to Julia were 'They're going to kill me.'"  
  
"And that's the last I saw of Julia. I leapt of the second storey balcony, and found my way down to the wharf. There, I found my dear old father hadn't forsaken his bastard son after all, and had secretly arranged for me to take passage on a merchant ship sailing to China, where I was to make my fortune."  
  
"However, the ship was attacked and sunk by pirates. Me, and the entire crew, were taken to India and sold into slavery (There, they pay a high price to see a rich white boy reduced to a slave.) I was bought the third wife of a rich Indian man. The Jararaca, as the India man was called, had seven wives, all beneath the age of twenty-five, all bored by the life the Jararaca offered. I was dressed as a woman; to hide me from the Jararaca. And thus I became the lover and servant of the seven wives."  
  
"This did not work out exactly as planned. Unfortunately, the Jararaca like his wives had a wondering eye, and because I was dressed as a woman, proceeded to court me. Thus, it was decided it would be best for all if I was freed, and set loose in India. I spent the next eight menthes establishing myself as a thieves lord, and playing dice with pirates in the brothels and bars of India."  
  
"Still only sixteen, I was as yet innocent to the complexities of the world. I was, unfortunately, also unaware of the potency of alcohol. I believe my enemies got me drunk, knocked me out, and stuffed me in a wine barrel on a merchant ship to England in hope that I would be murdered on the high seas."  
  
"I came too inside the barrel, and was on the verge of revealing myself to the crew, when the merchant ship was attacked and robbed by this dear ship we are on now. I was rolled, inside a wine barrel, across to the Portella."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * 


	5. The High Seas

* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"What was it I said about once a womaniser, always a womaniser?" Ana- Marie asked, recalling the story. Captain Jack Sparrow seemed more interested in the complexity of Ana-Marie's shirt buttons.  
  
She slapped his hands away, and he growled.  
  
"Ana-Marie, you can't invite a man into you're bed and not expect him to be interested in your buttons."  
  
"I didn't invite you captain."  
  
"Ah." Jack paused, his argument defeated. "Well, where do you hide the rum?" He said, leaning over her to check her the top drawer of her table.  
  
"Jack, how do you know I even have rum in here?" Ana-Marie asked, as Jack reached under the bed.  
  
"Because.Ah huh!" He said triumphantly, drawing out a half full bottle of rum. He waved it in her face, while she tried to snatch it. "I know you Ana. And you introduced me to the stuff."  
  
"And that's how I found myself wedged in a barrel, sailing god knows where." Jackson finished, eying the woman opposite him warily. She had not interrupted is story once, preferring to stare into the fire.  
  
Finally she started laughing.  
  
"Ah, Jackie boy, you're not the first man to be led to the life of pirating because of a woman." She paused. "Did you love her?"  
  
"Julia? Or the Jararaca's seven wives?"  
  
"Julia."  
  
"Yes," He said simply, looking at his hands.  
  
"Bitch." Ana-Marie said with a shrug, and passed him the rum. "Jack, as Turner always says, the sea's a cruel mistress, but she won't misuse you like Julia did. Be good to her, and she'll serve you well."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * Two days after that, a naval ship caught the Portella out on open sea, the wind working against her. The fight, by all accounts, was a bloodied one that left too many dead. Ana-Marie woke up to the sounds of cannons, and Crow's voice from the deck. She rushed to the windows, ignoring her father as he moaned on the bed.  
  
"Damnations." She swore, holstering her gun and finding her axes. No one would take the Portella from her. Not unless it was over her dead body.  
  
"Captain we're under." Came a voice from the door.  
  
"I know Barl," She said angrily as she strode past him. "Carlos, Vincent, go load the cannons. Barl, take the others on deck. We're going to have to fight them. We have to turn the ship so we can get them in firing range." She hurried, and nearly walked straight into Jackson.  
  
"Captain, what's." She shoved past him roughly, flattening him against the wall.  
  
"Vincent, take that idiot with you." She shouted back over her shoulder.  
  
The fight that ensued was pure chaos. The naval boat was a crew of young men, only their first trip out to sea. Luckily for Ana-Marie, most of them didn't know Starboard from dashboard. Still, the Portella was unprepared and took a beating on its hull.  
  
Ana-Marie found herself facing the Corporal of the ship. He drew his sword, his eyes dull.  
  
"Pirate whore. Go back to your bed sheets." Surprise was on her side, as he hissed when she drew her own sword, matching him blow for blow with angry menace. Canons boomed from both sides, and Ana-Marie was caught of guard when the mast of the naval ship fell. A protruding nail left a nasty cut down her arm, letting the Corporal gain advantage.  
  
He had her backed up against the wall; battle going on all around, his blade pressed her throat.  
  
"Seems almost a pity to kill you girl. I'd rather take you to my bed," The tip of his blade moved lower, stroking her collarbone. "Little minx like you."  
  
"I'd rather die." Ana-Marie spat through her teeth. The Corporal pressed the blade against her skin, causing her to gasp, as he sliced open the skin on her collarbone.  
  
"Would you, well." Whatever comment the Corporal would have made was silence, as a blade unceremoniously a slit his throat. Ana-Marie darted out of the way of his sword, glancing up at Jackson. He shot her a smile and a small salute before darting away.  
  
She watched him for a few seconds, his speed, the grace in which he fought, dancing this way and that. Sparrow was a fitting name for the way he fought. Then she turned and blocked an incoming attack.  
  
The battle ended, with ten soldiers captured, and the rest dead. Two pirates were slain, four injured. Ana-Marie sighed as she watched captives being shoved of the plank to fall into the water with their dead. The ship, while only a naval boat, contained enough to made the trip worth wild, though now they could not repeat it, not for a while anyway. Too many ships were now chasing the Portella.  
  
Time to relax, and lay low. What better place then Tortugua? Ana-Marie thought, trying to distract herself from the fact that she hadn't checked on her father for eight hours.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * 


	6. By my onesies

* * * * * * * * * *  
Her father Gull was dropped into the ocean with the Xavier and Rizza, the two pirates killed by the attack. The waves claimed back their warriors silently. The sun sank with a hiss as it touched the ocean, leaving the moon to rise high and clear over the merciless ocean.  
  
The crew could almost see the weight of responsibility that now resting of Ana-Marie's shoulders. They all made their ways back silently to their own cabins, to nurse the wounds of the day, or share a cup of rum for their lost captain.  
  
Ana-Marie found herself alone on the deck, her hair whipping at her face, tears streaming down. Now, she had no one she could trust. The seas, her great companion, held no answers nor solace that night.  
  
It was the first time the sea had failed her.  
  
Jackson came quietly on deck, watching the tiny slip of a girl search the sea for answers. He felt the sea surge beneath his feet, the wind on his face, and wondered at the love this girl held for the ocean.  
  
He rested his hand on her shoulder, and she nodded, predicting his presence.  
  
"I never knew his real name. Gull, that's all anyone ever called him. My mother gave him the nickname, said he was drawn to the sea just like a gull, and as greedy as one too."  
  
"He was a good man. All the crew praise him to the skies" Jackson said.  
  
"He was pirate." Ana-Marie stated dully.  
  
"He was a good man and a pirate." Jackson repeated.  
  
"Thank you. For earlier. For saving my life. I was right, when I first saw you, Sparrow."  
  
"Sparrow?" Jackson grinned. "I think I could bear that name. Better then the one my father gave me." He smiled, a world of possibilities opening up before his eyes. He was, in a way he never had been, free. Ana-Marie watched him, watched the wonder and joys in his eyes, and reached up to touch his cheek. He started.  
  
"Jackson.Sparrow, we've both of us lost our fathers. The sea, which I thought held all the answers, has failed me tonight." She explained, her hand brushing his clean-shaven cheek. He paused, watching her, his mind still brimming with the possibilities that the new name had conjured for him.  
  
He pulled her close, bowing his head down to kiss her. She gasped, his ferocity startling her. The waves rocked them, as he kissed up the trail of her tears, and she tread her arms around his neck, arching her back to touch as much of his as possible.  
  
They broke apart, and any words Jackson would have spoken were silenced beneath Ana-Marie's finger.  
  
Gingerly, Ana-Marie took his hand, leading him down into the captain's quarters.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
He hadn't expected her to be untouched. She gasped, and he kissed her whispering a million times over an apology for the pain. She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers separating the stands of his hair.  
  
Anyone that passed the cabin thought they head the girl crying, whimpering and mourning the loss of her father.  
  
Sometimes it seemed so hard to tell the difference between sounds of pain and that of pleasure. Only Turner knew, alone in his cabin.  
  
"Ah, Captain Ana-Marie, you'll be the death of me." Sparrow whispered afterwards, his unordained hands resting behind his head. She rested her head on his chest, his fingers twining through her hair.  
  
"Don't call me that." She replied. "Captain. me? That's too scary. You be captain." She joked. He smiled, kissing the top of her head affectionately.  
  
"Captain John Sparrow."  
  
"Jackson Sparrow." Ana-Marie corrected.  
  
"Captain Jackson. hmm. Captain Jack Sparrow." He finished on. "I quite like the sound of that."  
  
"Hmmm, that's a worry. Well don't get used to it. I'm the only captain of this ship. You can only be captain of this cabin. Savvy?" She rolled over to meet his eyes.  
  
"Well, I can't be captain of this cabin all by my onesies."  
  
"Did you just say onesies? Sparrow, I'm beginning to worry about you."  
  
"Yeah Jack, what is with you and your onesies?" Ana-Marie asked finally, watching Jack finish her liquor. Bastard.  
  
"Well, me and my onesies go way back. ah my beautiful onesies." He mumbled.  
  
"Arg. There's no getting any sense out of you when you're like this. You stupid drunk oaf. Roll over. I'm lying down." She said, pushing him back against the pillow again. She extracted the bottle from his hand, drinking the last few drops herself. "You, Jack Sparrow, have an Alcohol problem."  
  
"No, no. I don't have an alcohol problem. My problem is. my problem is." Jack got distracted by his hands momentarily and lost his train of thought.  
  
"You're arrogant?" Ana-Marie supplied innocently.  
  
"No, my problem is. ah my beautiful Pearl. Beautiful Pearl, lot's of plunder, lots of rum but. my Ana. oh my Ana." He moaned. Then he put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her close. He put his other arm out in front of them and smiled. "Ah, can you see it? My Ana, standing at the helm, my arm wrapped around her, chasing that horizon together. You know. a ship isn't just a deck and a hull and . those floppy things. white, no no, we have black, floppy thing. sails. It's not just a deck and a hull and floppy sails. It's freedom. Me and Elizabeth, she understood. She understood. But she's not my Ana."  
  
"You're an old fool Jack. Still the same old romantic you've always been."  
  
"Ah, Ana." He said, realising who he was talking to. "My beautiful girl. Taught me. taught me everything. My. well my black Pearl, except not ship shaped. Ana shaped. That's interesting." He slurred, his eyes confused again.  
  
"Hey, actually that is interesting. Did you name you're ship after me?" Ana-Marie asked curiously. Jack frowned, his brow furrowed with thought.  
  
"Didn't think I did." Then he broke into a sly smile, his arm on her shoulder pulled her closer. "Would you sleep with me if I said yes?"  
  
"You're an old fool Jack." She repeated laughing, leaning down to kiss him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * 


	7. Tats and braids

Thank you for my pretty reviews!! . Makes all that finger crapping up loading seem worthwhile! Yes, I did up load it all at once, because I wasn't sure whether I was going to write anymore, and I KNOW, Ana-Marie and Jack are the best couple in the world! Here are two more chapters, one that is kind of fluffy but deals with my obsession everything Jack Sparrowish. And, I'm getting to the plot, which is where Jack Does A Very Bad Thing and steals Ana-Marie's boat, (which I'd love to say Jack didn't do, because how could he do that kind of a thing? To Ana-Maire!) Disclaimer: I own nothing, but would one day like to get sucked into a time portal so I can become the ultimate Mary-Sue and follow Jack Sparrow around. Muahaha. * * * * * * * * * *  
Jack Sparrow, as he now was known as, joined the crew, at its lowest ranking. Which generally meant he scrubbed the deck and tied knots. If he thought he was going to receive any perks by sharing a bed with the captain, he was sadly deceived.  
  
The other pirates failed to notice the fact the Jack didn't seem to actually have a bunk, rather just appeared in the mornings and disappeared at nights. Any who guessed the truth wisely kept their mouths shut.  
  
Six days, and six nights, Jack and Ana-Marie shared a bed.  
  
And then there was Tortugua.  
  
They berthed at dawn, the first rays of light kissing the harbour. The booze soddened drunks and prostitutes were all making there way home, and the common folk who ran the bakeries and shops of Tortugua emerged.  
  
As unseemly as Tortugua was by night, the fires and the weapon- brandishing-pirates disappeared during the day, quenched and exhausted, tumbling into rotten sheets and welcoming arms. Housemaids and apprentices appeared, each with their own perfectly legal agendas.  
  
And that's when Sparrow received his punishment for being a stowaway.  
  
Ana-Marie came on deck as they berthed. The rest of the pirates were lowering the sails, or loitering around playing dice. A few, like Barl and Turner, who knew of Ana-Marie's games gave Jack a smug grin.  
  
"Sparrow?"  
  
"Captain." Jack looked up from his duties, to meet the gaze of just about the whole crew.  
  
"Do you know what happens to pirates when they get court by merchants? You see," Ana-Marie explained. "Navy officers hang them, but merchants they're more creative." She grinned mercilessly.  
  
"Merchants, they brand them. Show'im you're branding Barl." Ana-Marie ordered. Barl rolled up his sleeve, to display a darkening P on his arm. Jack shot Ana-Marie a questioning glance.  
  
"Is very pretty." He muttered, not knowing what to say.  
  
"Well, we have a policy on this ship that's something similar for stowaways. It's called a tattoo. You know what they are?"  
  
"Ow. I can't believe you made me get a tattoo." Sparrow said later when the two of them were alone  
  
Most of the pirates had hung around just long enough to watch the tattooist come aboard, and Ana-Marie pick out the design of the sparrow she wanted. A few had lingered so they could watch Jack squirm. Now they were nearly all gone, to buy or steal necessities or visit wives before the brothels and bars opened. Only Barl, Carlos and Turner remained on deck, playing dice.  
  
Ana-Marie rolled over in the sheet, examining the blue tattoo on Sparrow's arm.  
  
"Oh you big baby, its not that bad. Come on, I had to do something to you. Otherwise everyone would want to know why I didn't make you walk the plank."  
  
"Bloody woman. Oh no, Jack it won't hurt at all. Hey, why don't I get all the pirates to hang around and watch Jack cry? Was bloody traumatic!" He fumed. Ana-Marie rolled her eye.  
  
"Come on, it makes you look my pirate-y." She paused, examining him critically. "Maybe you should grow a beard."  
  
"You think?" He reflected. "Make me look older."  
  
"Um, yeah, and I could plait it for you." Ana-Marie giggled.  
  
"There will be no plaiting." He said. "Well, maybe.no. No plaiting."  
  
"I'll make you come around." She promised.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * 


	8. Unwanted firsts, and regretful lasts

* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Ah, Jackie, its your first night in Tortugua." Turner said, throwing an arm around the boy's shoulder. Sparrow glanced over his shoulder at Ana- Marie, who leant against the main mast, arms crossed across her chest. Her face was passive, but her eyes flickered uneasiness.  
  
"Boys first night eh?" Carlos grinned mercilessly, his teeth a sickening yellow colour in blacked gums. Sparrow's eyes widened with shock at having such teeth so close to his face. "Show'im a good time."  
  
"Ah, my boy. I remember my first night here," Turner's eyes glazed over slightly. "It's a town to was ya sorrows in, if nothing else lad." Turner's eyes darted to Ana-Marie, who was watching the exchange. "We'll take good care of the boy,"  
  
"Yeah," Barl said, and winked suggestively. "Introduce the boy to some good people." Sparrow looked to Ana-Marie for approval, but her face was unreadable.  
  
"Captain, is it okay if we take off now? Vincent and Crow are coming at eight to stand guard. You'll probably want it spread around that you're the new captain for the Portella, mam?" Turner asked politely, trying to pretend he couldn't hear Carlos gibes at the boy.  
  
"Yes." Ana-Marie nodded. "As I said, we'll berth here for three days. Anyone who fails to turn up on the third day will get left behind, savvy?" She said the last few words slowly and menacingly. "And put it round we need two new hands on deck, preferably no more cocky mutineers. I'm sick of having to dispose of them."  
  
Ana-Marie finished with a grimace, remembering the feeling of drawing the blade across the last one's throat. There was such a difference, between the kill of a stranger in battle or the disposal of one after battle, and that of killing a supposed friend in cold blood. A difference she wanted to experience as rarely as possible.  
  
The four pirates made to leave the ship. What a strange group they made. Turner, in his early thirds, was distractingly handsome, his skin smooth white and his eyes like dark coal. His skin, hardened brown by the sun, was the only sign that showed him as what he was, a pirate. He looked like a young noble, down on his luck.  
  
Barl was tall and broad, the kind of solid, stoic man who looked like he could snap a man's neck with his hands. Beside him was Carlos, small and wiry, with a rattish quality that sickened nobles and disgusted woman.  
  
And then Sparrow. Head bowed, but observant, his walk unknowingly cocky, his manner disturbing as it seemed half serious, half mocking. There was no doubt they'd find trouble in Tortugua tonight.  
  
Ana-Marie prayed silently that that was all the young Jack found. She shook her head at herself. It was not for her to decide what the boy did. He was only sixteen for gods sake.  
  
"Um, hold on a minute boys." Ana-Marie called out sweetly. Jack turned around almost thankfully.  
  
Uh-huh! He thought, she's gunna tell me what to do so I don't mess up.  
  
"Yes, Captain?" They all said, turning around respectfully.  
  
"Carlos, I thought we made an agreement earlier." Carlos froze. He almost went cross-eyed with thought.  
  
"An a. a.agreement." He stuttered naturally, flexing his fingers. Sparrow looked mildly afraid and took a step away from him, wobbling to regain his balance as he nearly fell of the peer.  
  
"When we were in the hold? You were taunting Sparrow here?" Ana-Marie prompted. Carlos narrowed his eyes trying to recall. "Your punishment was." Carlos snapped his fingers, proud to finally be able to contribute.  
  
"Scrub the decks for two weeks and. oh." His voice trailed off and his smile faltered. "Not leave ship when we get to Tortugua. Oh."  
  
"That's right. Looks like you've got first watch." Ana-Marie smiled brightly. "Now if you'll excuse me boys, I've got things to do." She said, patting the gem pouch that hung from her belt. Ana-Marie smiled. Sparrow would probably get drunk and pass out before he made it to any brothel.  
  
Carlos made his muted way back to the ship, while Sparrow, sandwiched between Barl and Turner, made a few panicked glances back at Ana-Marie before getting swamped in the crowds that was Tortugua.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"You know, it was all true, my bonnie lass," Jack whispered, his salt cracked lips resting momentarily on Ana-Marie's belly button as he paused for thought.  
  
"What's all true?" Ana-Marie said distractedly, her fingers entangled in his hair. Jack looked up at her with a slight grin, his gold teeth sparkling menacingly. His rough fingers idly caressed the skin where her white shirt was riding up.  
  
"My little sob story. The one true story about Jack Sparrow, his daring escape which led him into piracy." He said solemnly.  
  
"Your reputation does seem to be exceeding you these days. You should hear the tales about you. I don't even think I could, what was it.? Rope a couple of sea turtles with the hair of my back?" Ana-Marie said with a laugh, poking his thigh with her foot. He smiled gingerly.  
  
"Standing on those gallows, having all the things I've done read out to me like that, made me realise I've had some pretty close calls. Some damn close calls. And what for?" He wrapped his knuckles on the wall. "For this, for some wood and sails? Damn close calls. Ten years I chased this ship. Don't know what I'd do if I lost her again."  
  
Ana-Marie smiled softly, not having the heart to yell at him, to kick him and punch him, to tell him how rotten he was. Not having the heart to say that he'd caused her to lose her ship, which he'd sunk it to the bottom of the ocean.  
  
In the here and now, she thought, it didn't seem all that important.  
  
"Ah, Jack, you could never hold your liquor well. Do you always go all insightful?" She said, trying to joke it off.  
  
"Ah, well, it's the company I keep I suppose. All these woman, expecting things of me." He paused, kissing her belly button again thoughtfully. "I did a terrible thing didn't I? I was young and I was stupid, but it was still a terrible thing." He said, glancing up at her again. Her face grew pensive and she nodded.  
  
"Aye. You did. And losing the Portella, though it felt like the end of the world, wasn't even the worst of it. Do you know what it's like being stranded in some god forsaken port, a pirate wench with not a penny to her name?"  
  
Jack narrowed his eyes, recalling one certain occasion in Tortugua after too much drink, but thought this not the time to bring it up.  
  
"In the end though, I think it hurt most that you did it Jack. When you were my confident. Then when I learnt you reasons, I hated you even more, though I could understand it."  
  
"Understand it?" He repeated, mulling the words over.  
  
"Aye Jack, what is it you say? Not all treasure is gold and silver."  
  
"That's true my darlin," Jack said grinning, moving up the bunk to rest by Ana-Marie's head again. "But it's also true that not all that glitters is gold." He said grimly, and she stroked his face sympathetically.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * 


	9. Tortugua's gold

Thank you for all my lovely review again. Every time I get one, I'm like, oh, I better write some more so I get more review to pat my egos, and then I get another review, and I write more. It's a very vicious circle, and I get no work done. It's evil, very evil.  
  
Anyway, I just had a fight with my friend, and she says its Ana-Maria not Ana-Marie, and now that I think about it she might be right. What do you think? Is it Ana-Maria and should I bother to change every last one to Ana- Maria? Or should I just change it in future? Hmmm  
  
Also, My chapters small, so do you want them bigger, or do you like them in biteable proportions? Feed back here.  
  
Kingleby: Thank you, I love your reviews, they are very CUTE, hehe, and I'll have to write in later about the hair braiding bit, because I can't see Jack Sparrow just waking up one morning and deciding that yes, beads are the best fashion statement. Maybe it happened against his will eh? Or maybe he was just really really bored on that little island. Hmmm.  
  
Dana-Black: Longer chapters, check. They are coming, eventually. And lusty (am I allowed to say lusty when it's P-13, I'm afraid.) but, lusty chapters coming, check. But you'll have to wait; they are a few chapters away.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Never in Sparrow's life had he seen such a place. Maidens coming out of their dresses, skin so pale that thin blue veins could be traced from exposed collarbones downwards in an overt display of skin.  
  
Everywhere drinking. Everywhere shouts that could be screams of laughter or pain. Pirates talked animatedly, scars distorting faces and huge hats shadowing them. The air was so thick with grog that you could almost taste it on your teeth.  
  
Sparrow was pleased when Turner ducked into a tavern called the White Goose. Not that it was any less crowded in there. A flirtatious barmaid who obviously knew Turner well found them a seat in the upper part of the bar. Sparrow looked out on the balcony, where one man was pouring ale down his throat and shirt, while one woman seemed intend on flipping her skirts up and down at a drunken sailor. Another sailor had his arms wrapped blearily around two girls, both who swayed with him, batting heavily painted eyelashes wearily.  
  
Barl returned with three tankards, his eyes scanning the room.  
  
"Barl's looking for Carlotta, his ah." Turner broke off with a knowing grin. Barl bared his teeth a Turner jokingly, "Lets just say, they are well acquainted."  
  
"Jackson, ignore Turner here. He doesn't believe in excising his leave to its full capacity." Barl said, still searching for Carlotta.  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"Turner heres a married man. Got a bird and a brat back home. Rarely ever uses the comforts that Tortugua has to offer." Barl clarified, sloshing some of his tankard, turning his back on the rest of the room now, his search defeated.  
  
Turner nodded, draining his tankard while Barl spoke.  
  
"Ah, but not always is my resolve that strong," Turner said mockingly. "And it's not tonight Barl. It's been a long six weeks, with no sign of returning to England any time soon. And it's the boy's first night here. Shall we introduce him to madam Madeline, do you think?" Turner asked wicked. The barmaid appeared before Barl could do anything but smile.  
  
"Well, if it isn't my best loved first mate of the Portella! Had no idea that you boys would be in town for a while. Turner, how are you?" The girl said gushingly, kissing Turner on one cheek. She was blonde and short, but curvy with a lot of skin exposed. She had, overall, an overpowering aura.  
  
"Kim, how's it faring?" Turner asked, a long look passing between the two of them. Barl watched, and grew bored, once again scanning the room.  
  
"Good and bad. Father's turning over a new leaf, clearing out more of the unsavoury characters. Think he wants to go a bit up market, what good it'll do him I don't know. Who's this then?" She asked, blessing Sparrow with a wide smile.  
  
"Ah, new recruit on the Portella." Turner explained shortly. He licked his lips slightly as the girl preened, pausing the take another sip of ale.  
  
"You still on that old ship, Turner? You should be a captain by now, big strapping boy like you!"  
  
"Funny you mention that love, got a new captain and all now." He paused for dramatic affect while the girl's eyes widened.  
  
"You never? Was it mutiny?"  
  
"Nah luv, nothing that dramatic. Gull died. Fever got him." The blonde girl gasped anyway, her chubby hand raised to her rouged lips.  
  
"Oh Bill, that's terrible."  
  
"Aye," Barl and Turner bowed their heads. Sparrow noticed that the girl didn't seem all that upset, twiddling with her blonde curl. Just another pirate in her mind.  
  
"Whose you new captain? Is it that girl, Gulls, daughter? What was her name, real curt skinny bitch?" Kim asked.  
  
"Ana-Marie. Yeah, that's her. Nasty with a sword, as me and Carlos found out the other day." Turner said leaning forward to recount the incident in the hull. The blonde girl laughed, though she appeared distracted now. She twisted her ponytail in her hand.  
  
"Well, I gutta get back to my customers. But, I'll be off in an hour, if you want to stick around, Turner? Oh, and Barl, you want me to tell Carlotta you're in town? Her and the girls are down at the Banana Monkey, but I can get them to come over. Nothing but cheap sailors there anyway." She disappeared before Barl could answer. Turner watched her backside disappear happily.  
  
"Ah, there, now half of Tortugua will know who's running the Portella before the hours out." Turner said satisfied  
  
"A big gossip is she?" Sparrow asked.  
  
"Old Kim? The biggest. Know you friends as well as you enemies, I always say. It's your friends that do you over in the end in this business."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * 


	10. For fair company

Whoops, I forgot a disclaimer hmmm Disclaimer: I own nothing, Jack Sparrow is god, but yes, I do understand he is imprisoned and bound in to slavery by Disney, and can never ever be mine.. Unless.hmmm..  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * Three round later, both Turner and Sparrow were starting to get a little groggy. Barl pulled out what looked like some kind of powder, and Sparrow blinked eerily at him as he sniffed it. Whatever it was, Barl didn't offer it around.  
  
"Sparrow, what ever your tale was it must have been pretty interesting to get lil Ana-Marie to keep you on board," Turner said. Barl nodded in a groggy unison. "Lil Ana-Marie. She was like a daughter to all of us on the Portella. Gull, good man, would've been proud of her."  
  
"It's not the way I'd want my daughter to turn out though," Barl said slowly, his eyes gazing at some distant spot on the wall. "She'd never get a chance at another life,"  
  
"He's right. I don't want my son raised that way. See, I got a wife and son home in Britain. Left em to travel the seas." Turner said quietly. "Call of the sea was too strong for me to stay home. But it's a harsh life, whether you're a merchant or naval officer or pirate. Leave's ya lonely, the high seas does. My boy, he'd be about seven now, big strapping boy. Great thing about kids, love ya unconditionally, they have to at that age. Don't know what lies his mum feeds him about me, classy bird that one. Hope he never grows up." Turner said clinking his mug with Sparrow. ]  
"Ah, there she is!" Barl said suddenly. He nodded to a skinny dark haired girl by the door. "Carlotta. Best woman in Tortugua,"  
  
"And you'd know mate." Turner laughed.  
  
"Why if it isn't Barl! Haven't seen you in years?" The girl cried. Barl grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her onto his lap.  
  
"Carlotta, I think you've met Turner. And this is Sparrow. He's new." Carlotta nodded at Turner knowingly, and then extended a too thin hand to Sparrow. He shook it, and she laughed as he smiled cheekily at her.  
  
"Why Barl, what that's ship of your's doing, taking babes on board? What is he, he's not even full grown!"  
  
"I think he's mighty fine," One of her girls replied. She had chiselled yet widish face that was offset by her huge brown eyes and a sculpted mouth. Her hair was a rich black, making her skin look all the whiter. A pretty blonde in serpant green with tightly pulled back blonde hair laughed at this comment, their arms hooked together.  
  
"Boys, that's Christine, and the laughing imbecile next to her is my sister Paulette." Carlotta introduced, her arm snaking around Barl's neck.  
  
"What are you ladies still doing free? I thought I'd have to wait till tomorrow night to get any time with you, my pretty." Barl said. Carlotta pretended to be offended.  
  
"Barl, when I heard you was in town, I dropped everything to come write over here!" The girl in green laughed again, while Christine shrugged.  
  
"Ah, well, the ports filled with sailors and soldiers, but not a one has a heavy coin purse on him."  
  
"Well, that rings more truthful," Turner said warmly. "Now, let me pull you ladies up some chairs." Barl leant and whispered something in Carlotta's ear. She'd eyed Sparrow up appreciatively. Carlotta then in turn, whispered something in Christine's ear, while Paulette sulked.  
  
Sparrow found Christine's arm draped across his shoulder.  
  
"Now, honey, I hear it's your first time in Tortugua," Sparrow nodded, a grin forming on his lips.  
  
"Ah, I think I've been a bit slow." He muttered. Christine raised an eyebrow. "I've just understood why people have been saying that to me all night." Christine laughed, and Sparrow thought of Ana-Marie's smile as they'd left the ship. She'd known this was going to happen.  
  
He placed his hands on Christine's hips, pulling her casually but firmly into his lap. The world around him seemed to have been enveloped in a dark rich haze of rum and smoke. The sensations of his fingers felt delayed and yet electric.  
  
Turner laughed, again, dismissing the Paulette girl with an eye. She hung around anyway, huffily watching Christine attentions to Sparrow, and Carlotta's preening.  
  
Carlotta said something about Sparrow that he missed, and he smiled slowly. Turner thumped him on the back.  
  
"Ah, we'll make a pirate out of you yet boy." Sparrow felt, rather then heard, Christine laugh. She turned her head, looked down into his face.  
  
"Oh, Carlotta, this one's charming." She purred, and Sparrow kissed her.  
  
Somehow, they left the pub, Turner having obligingly slipped Christine some coin with a wink. Barl and Carlotta left with them; Barl tucking the scrawny brunette one arm.  
  
The journey was a bit of a blur, though Sparrow would have likely hit that pavement if Christine hadn't been holding him up. She laughed constantly, her arm looped around his waist. She was a few inches shorter then him, so her lips brushed his cheek when she talked.  
  
Somehow, Sparrow found himself in bed, and his hands reached out instinctively for the woman in the room. She dropped her cream and pale yellow coloured dress to the floor, her silky black hair curling at the ends. Reverently, he ran one finger down the inky blue veins like he had wanted to do earlier. He kissed her under the silvery moonlight, which filtered in through the slated blinds on the windows.  
  
She laughed, slipping under the sheets next to him, and Sparrow marvelled at the difference between the women he bedded. Callous Julia, the well- oiled and giggly wives he'd made love to in India, and his beautiful dark Ana-Marie.  
  
None had been so incandescently pale.  
  
Jack grinned.  
  
* * * * * Ana-Marie sat on the deck of the Portella beneath the blooming stars, a think red blanket wrapped around her. She saw the surging crowds of the city behind her, and turned her back on it. The lull of the waves calmed her, and the beautiful horizon kept her company. 


	11. When all words are wrong

Wow, okay. This is my next two chapters. I was so MAD at Jack for what he did in the last chapter (I know, what a typical male? I mean come on Jack, you could lose Ana-Maria over this), that I stopped writing for a while.  
  
I was seriously considering giving him a disease and killing him off (thanks Lthien Arcamenel, I really did think about it) but that wouldn't follow the story line! I was so mad, so I had spent all of last night writing a fiction that killed him off to teach Jack a lesson.  
  
Unfortunately, that means the next update after this may take a little longer, also cuz I'm meant to be studying (ahem, yes, that's what I'm doing on the computer. Studying. Yes. Ahem.), so I probably won't update tomorrow, unless I feel inspired.  
  
Greetings to Holland, from Australia: Thank you for bumping my review numbers up! Hugs and Kisses to all reviewers!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The next morning, Jack woke up with the feeling that someone very heavy was sitting on his head (Authors note: me and my friend had a long discussion about this when I had a cold, and we decided that this is the best description of how you feel when you have a cold/hangover. Either that or your head feels really out of proportionally big.) His limbs felt as though they were full of lead, and his eyelids stuck together, heavy with sleep. He rolled over, blinking at the sunlight pouring in from the window.  
  
The sheets stuck to his skin and had wrapped themselves around his thighs in the night. He sat up, watching Christine dress. She glanced up, her fingers working the knots out of her hair, and shot him a wry smile.  
  
In the early morning light, things often appear much different. Christine was not just a sexy, exotic lady of the night, but she was also a girl with knots in her hair and runs in her stockings. A girl who ate and slept and had agendas of her own. like everyone else.  
  
He noticed things about her that he hadn't the night before. Like the way her hair had slight touches of gold woven through the dark brown hair. He noticed how she had a slight scar on her upper arm, and how there were bruise marks around her wrist.  
  
"Ah sleepy head, finally awake are ya? I thought I was going to have to turf you out." She said, walking over to the nightstand and reapplying her eyeliner. Her brown boots clacked on the footboards.  
  
"Oh, my head." Jack winced.  
  
"Yeah, rum does that to you." She brushed past him, reaching for her hatpin, which was lost in the bed. Jack noticed now how she smelt of vodka and cigarettes, and slightly of sweat.  
  
She batted his hands away.  
  
"Now luv, I'm gunna have to throw you out for the day, my landlady likes to pretend that I'm a hat makers apprentice, and that's all."  
  
"Are you?" Jack asked. She patted down her skirt, and sat down on the end of the bed, doing up her laces.  
  
"Yes, I am by day. My work lets me rent this room, and buy the food. It's a nice set up until I can buy a shop of my own." She mused, and then turned her brown eyes on him. "Now, Turner gave me some coin last night and then some. So if you want I can be yours for the next three nights. You're a nice boy Jack, and I'd rather spend my nights with you then trying to find another nice sailor."  
  
Jack paused, and then nodded slowly.  
  
"That's a grand plan." He said. Christine nodded.  
  
"Okay, but you have to get out during the days. I'll walk you over to the bar that Carlotta works in. Barl'll still be hanging around, and I'll meet you back after sunset."  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
And so, Jack Sparrow spent the next three days in and out of the bed of the whore Christine. During the day, the boys showed him the sights of Tortugua, the animal pits where the pirates gambled, the beaches covered in debris from ships, and the millions of bars and brothels.  
  
Then he went back to the ship.  
  
Turner escorted him back, saying it was Sparrows turn to do some guard duty and help resupply the ship. Turner himself was to introduce the two new hands to the Captain. Sparrow was not surprised to see Ana-Marie still aboard the ship. The crew said she left it little, even for shore-leave.  
  
He was surprised though; by the cold look she gave him.  
  
She was mending the sails, her stich neater and smaller then the other pirates. Sparrow ran his hand over the material, feeling its coarseness beneath his fingers.  
  
"Captain, these are the new recruits. This here is." Ana raised a hand, silencing Turner's words.  
  
"Turner, I don't really care to hear their names. If they make presence worthwhile on our journey, then I'll learn them. Otherwise, I don't think I'll bother. Savvy?" Ana-Marie snapped. She stood up, and marched below deck, leaving Turner rubbing his neck.  
  
"Ah, that's our little wild cat. She'll come around. Just in a bad mood is all." One of the new recruits gazed after her with raised eyebrows. The other kept a thought full silence.  
  
"I heard its bad luck to have." The first one started, and Turner panicked again.  
  
"Shut up, Goil. Don't let her hear you say that when she's in this mood, or she cut you to pieces. Our Ana-Marie can match anyone here in a sword fight, and has the guts besides. Good woman, good captain. She's just got a fiery temper is all, keeps us on our toes." Turner ushered the recruits away.  
  
Jack rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and strode off after Ana-Marie.  
  
"Ana?" He called, leaning against the door of her cabin.  
  
"Sparrow, must I remind you that I am captain of this ship, and maybe it's time you treated me as one." She snapped, making her bed with deft, unkind motions. Jack stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
"Aye Captain," He murmured. She nodded to herself, as if having an internal dialogue. Sparrow fidgeted uncomfortably.  
  
"You certainly snapped at them new recruits." Sparrow commented.  
  
"I don't think I need lessons in courtesy from you Sparrow." She replied coldly. He raised his eyebrows and then squinted.  
  
"Are you mad at me, Captain?" She laughed, pushing open the window to the room, so that the warm sea breeze followed through.  
  
"Sparrow, how can you ask me that? Of course I'm bloody mad!" Ana-Marie shouted before she could stop herself. Then she calmed, looking at a spot on the wall behind his head, before continuing. "Am I supposed to ask you how your shore leave was? Do you want me to ask you if you had a good time with your whore?" Ana-Marie asked aggressively, her hands never stopping moving, tidying this and that.  
  
Sparrow opened his mouth a few times and then shook his head, confused.  
  
"But you knew that's what the guys where taking me out for, I mean you knew that." Sparrow said softly.  
  
"Yes, of course I bloody well knew. I'd have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to have missed all the innuendos."  
  
"But, you. I thought you were giving me your approval. I didn't think it mattered." He stopped again, shaking his head. Ana-Marie gazed at him like he was a moron.  
  
"Didn't think it mattered? Oh Jack Sparrow, that." She gave him a look of disgust, momentarily gob smacked. "If you thought I was just some casual lay, that I just sleep with the men on my ship whenever I get an itch then your highly mistaken."  
  
"No, no, not you didn't matter, that she wouldn't matter. I didn't think you'd mind." He was floundering now, licked his lips as he tried to think of something that would make this okay.  
  
"Didn't think I'd mind that you were off banging some whore? You're either really stupid Jack, or you think I am." She turned away from him, so he couldn't see her face. "Look, this whole thing was stupid to begin with. I've just become captain of this ship, and I shouldn't have jeopardized that by sleeping with one of the crew. If it hadn't been for my fathers death." She broke off.  
  
"So what? I was a comfort lay, is that what your saying? That I was convenient?" Now it was his turn to be indignant. "How is that any better then a casual lay? I didn't think what we had was either of those things." He corrected quickly. "If you want to justify sleeping with me by using your father's death as an excuse, I can't stop you. But it's weak." He was angry now.  
  
"You're so willing to give up Jack, already." She said quietly.  
  
"Bloody hell, Ana, you're all I want, you've shown me a whole new life." He said passionately. She whirled around.  
  
"Yes, that's it isn't it? I've shown you something new, and that's all it was. You're only sixteen Jack, you have no idea what you bloody well want."  
  
"And you're eighteen, so that makes you god on every subject?" Jack growled.  
  
"Well, at least I'm not a stupid boy lead around by his dick." Ana-Marie replied harshly. He took a step back from her, shaking his head and decided to back track.  
  
"I don't understand this. Okay, I was wrong to sleep with her. I didn't know you'd care. But I just thought . well, we're pirates. That's what pirates do, we drink and we womanise or men-anise," He said slightly confused, stumbling over his words. "But we're pirates, that doesn't mean anything to us. What you and I had, that was different. That was something.... shared, wasn't it?" He asked pleadingly.  
  
"No Jack, you're wrong. I'm a pirate, you're just a silly boy who got trapped in a wine barrel." She jutted out her chin.  
  
Jack seethed. He brought his hand up as though he wanted to hit her, his lips mouthing slightly with thoughts he did not voice.  
  
"Get the hell out of here Jack." She said coldly.  
  
He didn't move.  
  
"While you're part of the crew on this ship, you'll follow my orders, Sparrow. Now get the hell out of my cabin." She said slowly.  
  
"This is just some head game with you." He started.  
  
"GET THE HELL OUT!!" Ana-Marie screamed. And he did. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the cabin. He walked into one of the new recruits, the one he couldn't remember the name of, on his way out, a thin ugly man who gazed at Jack curiously. Jack grabbed him by the shirt collars, slamming him against the wall.  
  
"You tell a soul what you just heard, and I'll slice you up fit for worm food." Jack said angrily, smashing his fist into the wall beside the new recruits head. Then he dropped him, and strode away into the burning sunlight outside.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * 


	12. View from the morning

(Hangs my head in shame).  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Jack was asleep now, half sitting, his head bowed to his chest. Ana-Marie lay curled up next to him, feeling the rise and the fall of his breathe. Soon, the sun would rise, painting the ocean pink and red and then it would be another day. A day were she would Ana-Marie, the untouchable pirate wench.  
  
Only here, in the darkness of her cabin, did she allow her doubts and worries to appear. She gazed down at her hands, the soft skin in the waning moonlight. To think she was twenty-nine, nearly thirty, was something she didn't like to remember. So many years passed in drunk in bars or gambling. So many opportunities to change, to make a good clean run for a legal life if she'd just bothered to look up.  
  
But what life was there, other then the sea, for her?  
  
And there was Jack. No matter how the years had passed, he still could bring out a side of her that she tried to forget existed. A side where love had a literal meaning, and was not just an abstract word for sex.  
  
She would be lying to herself if she said she wanted to leave the Pearl. She might whinge and whine, and demand her own ship from time to time like Jack had promised, but the Pearl, and the chance to journey with Jack again, was an opportunity she didn't want to pass up. He was her connection to the world.  
  
For the ten years after she lost the Portella, she was aimless. Not a friend in the world, not a person to belong to. No purpose, not like what had driven Jack, to reclaim the Pearl at whatever cost.  
  
She traced Jack's face with her eyes, the beard with those silly plaits, the charm beaded braid her wore down one side of his face, the red scarf tied across he dreadlock hair, the smudged kohl around his eyes.  
  
All of it was an illusion.  
  
Accessories, and glamour he'd picked up along the way. This façade that made him the infamous Jack Sparrow, the crazy outfit intended to instil fear.  
  
She imagined wiping it all away, smoothing the skin, shaving the beard and washing the hair until it was soft again. She imagined running her fingers across the scars on his chest, across the branded P and her own brand she placed on him so many years ago, her Sparrow tattoo. Taking away his affects, his hat and his gun, his rings and his beads.  
  
She wondered if she'd find John Jackson under there, the boy she'd moulded into the man next to her.  
  
But she knew she wouldn't. Even without the affects and the jazzy charm, he would be Jack Sparrow. He was Jack Sparrow through and through now, and she couldn't change that. Maybe she shouldn't want to. She loved the man next to her, loved what he had become and who he'd been.  
  
Her hands rested again on his chest, and she closed her eyes, relinquishing to sleep. She worried, that was all. She had given him a new name, a new identity, a new purpose and love. She'd given him everything she'd had to offer.  
  
And she wondered what he would be like if she hadn't.  
  
Maybe they both wouldn't have spent the last ten years gazing longingly at a horizon they couldn't have.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Come on Jackie, Jackie, time to wake up," Ana-Marie whispered. She had taken of her trews during the night, and was in the process of pulling them back on. The first touch of dawn was on the horizon, as was a land mass.  
  
"No, why would you do that? Why? Why name the monkey after me? No, it's, not the monkey, no." Jack Sparrow moaned into the pillow. Then he started, holding his head a few inches above the pillow, his eyes wide and startled. Then he rolled over, remembered his surroundings, and relaxed back on the pillow.  
  
Ana-Marie had to stop herself laughing. In all the times they'd shared a bed, she'd never known him once to wake up any other way.  
  
"What was that about a monkey Jack?" Ana-Marie asked innocently. Jack blinked his eyelids in mock innocence.  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about luv."  
  
"Ah huh. You've smudged eyeliner all over my pillow." Ana-Marie said, tossing him a mirror. He checked his eye make up carefully, scowling at his beard.  
  
"Ah well can't be helped." He muttered. He leant back against the pillow smiling, watching Ana-Marie tidy her hair. "You know luv, I think that's the first time I've shared a bed with a woman and just slept."  
  
"I know." Ana-Marie said. "I couldn't believe it either. Never thought you the type to pass out in a lasses bed." Jack noticed the empty rum bottle and grimaced.  
  
"Well, you didn't seem that interested." Jack replied, watching her move. Ana-Marie smiled, standing over him.  
  
"Ah, but I was just becoming interested." She said silkily.  
  
"Were you now, lassie?" He grinned. He raised an eyebrow, and she raised one in return. "Well that's interesting."  
  
"Is it now Jack?" Ana-Marie said, straddling Jack on the bed. He placed his hands on her hips as she bent down to kiss him. Her hair formed a veil over the two of them, and he moved his hand up to the back of her head, pushing himself up to sitting. Then he flipped her over in one fluid motion, so that she lay beneath him.  
  
"Is very interesting." He growled. She laughed when he started to kiss her neck, his beard tickling her. He gave her a reproachful look before resuming what he was doing.  
  
"Oh you devilish Pirate you, stop manhandling me so," Ana-Marie said in a mocking high voice (speaking in the tongues of all Mary-Sues). Whatever Jack said into her neck was pronounceable rude and unprintable.  
  
He ran his hand up her thigh, cursing and thanking the trews all at once. On the upside, the was so much less material in the way, no skirts to get lost in, and he could feel ever line of her legs through the thin material. On the downside, it was much more difficult to reach his goal. So much easier with a skirt, to just slide his hand upwards towards her.what was it Turner had called it? Her inner pearl.  
  
Sparrow laughed again. Ana-Marie swatting the side of his head, as he had stopped his giving her neck his full attention while recalling that tiny bit of information. She pushed him up to sitting, her sailor hands up doing the buttons of his shirt, sliding the material off his shoulders. She lifted the white undershirt off two, revealing the tanned skin beneath it.  
  
She ran her hand across the tattoo of a snake wrapped around a sword just above his left nipple, and the scar that ran down his side. She unravelled the red scarf from around his head, her hands touching the clanging beads on the side of his head softly.  
  
As careful as she had been, he slowly unbuttoned her shirt, until she lay exposed in the early morning light. He kissed her incredulously, his hands running over her unmarked skin. He paused at her wrist, as she had done at his. There was no P sign there.  
  
"I never got court." Ana-Marie gloated. Jack Sparrow stared down at her momentarily his eyes for once clear, unknown thoughts passing through his mind. Then he broke into his characteristic smile.  
  
"Are you saying you're a better pirate then Captain Jack Sparrow?" He asked, and Ana-Marie smiled. Her arms looped up around his neck pulling him closer, her wrists pressed against each other behind his head. She curled her toes against the mattress, as his hand on her thigh pulled her up close around his waist.  
  
"Maybe I am." She teased, her lips brushing the edge of his ear.  
  
"Ah, well, that sounds like a challenge." He smiled as he kissed her, the memories brought up by the previous night banished by the first rays of the new day.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * 


	13. Its a very nice hat

Please Read and Review. It speeds my writing. Really, it does. Also, it soothes my vulnerable ego.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Ana-MariA rested her boots on the dining table, knocking a pile of coins and a gold goblet in the process. She smiled smugly. Overall it had been a very good journey, and they had plenty of plunder to show for it.  
  
She fingered an emerald with hung on a silver chain, nestling between her breasts, remembering how the fat rich lady had squealed when she'd taken it. Worth a pretty penny this would be, and maybe, Ana-Maria mused, she'd be able to afford to equip the ship with new sails, maybe even a new cannon, not from the emerald, but from all the loot they'd taken.  
  
The food before her was gradually disappearing, the celebration ham and the roasted chickens torn into viciously by the pirates surrounding her. Some used utensils, but more with a shovelling motion then any kind a grace. Most used their fingers, wiping the grease on their closes or through their hair.  
  
Maybe she'd buy a new hat. A big hat, one worthy of a captain. She touched the hat on her head, which had once belonged to her father, and changed her mind. Some things were too dear to part with.  
  
She sipped her ale thoughtfully, grimacing. Nothing beat the pure stuff.  
  
From the head of the table, Ana-Maria watched Sparrow with all the appearance of staring avidly at her boots. He wore a cheap gimmicky crown that they'd found in one of the cases on the last ship. It was lopsided, hanging down towards his left ear. He used a knife and fork, jabbing at the meat and twirling it round on his fork when he spoke. Ana-Maria noticed how he occasionally glanced at the pirates next to him, watching how they ate, mimicking them.  
  
But Ana-Maria could see the curtesies, the etiquette of the richer breed in the angle he held his fork at, in the neat way he cut the vegetables up with his knife rather then breaking it up with the edge of his fork.  
  
"Well, where to now, Captain?" Crow asked, drawing her back. She shook her head, expelling the day dream that had been growing there, and smiled. She grabbed her mug, rising with cat like grace.  
  
"Where to now, you ask? To our hoard, of course. Can't spend all these jewels at once, can we? And we need to give the navy some time to cool down. We'll stop at the nearest port, we need to patch that hole in the on the port side, and we can celebrate there in really pirate fashion." Ana-Maria said, followed by a chorus of cheers.  
  
"Captain?" Turner said, standing up, swaying slightly on his feet.  
  
"Yes, Turner?" Ana-Maria said, blessing him with an unusual smile.  
  
"When are we going back near England, mam?" The crew grew silent, not wanting to meet Turner's face. England was not an easy place to get to for a pirate, not with the British navy swarming the place.  
  
Not many pirates have families, and for good reason.  
  
"Not right now, Turner." Ana-Maria said dismissively after an auditable pause.  
  
"When?" He persisted. The aggression in his voice was evident. Sparrow turned rum smudged eyes on Ana-Maria, and the rest of the crew held their breath.  
  
"When I decide, I'll make sure you're the first to know, Turner. We'll sail from here to Barbados, if that's alright with you Turner?" Ana-Maria stated calmly, a flash of steel in her voice.  
  
"Aye, not my place." He muttered, reseating himself. The uncomfortable silence continued for a moment, and then the uproar that accompanied all meals aboard the Portella resumed.  
  
Sparrow sighed, flinching at the anger in Ana-Maria. He couldn't help feeling guilty for her harsh words to all the crew recently. She was definitely not in one of her good moods, and it seemed pretty damn likely that he was the cause.  
  
"Bloody woman." Turner muttered so low that only Sparrow next to him could hear. "What the hell's wrong with her these days?"  
  
Sparrow's thoughts on that he kept to himself.  
  
He'd been surprised at the depth of her anger. Well, maybe he shouldn't have been, but for her to keep up this whirlwind of rage for three straight weeks, well, that was estimable. And extremely frightening.  
  
Not that he thought the whole issue would just magically smooth itself out, or that she'd forgive him easily. He may be stupid in the way of women, but even he wasn't that naïve. No, this was going to take a big gesture to make right again, a big firework spelling I'm sorry kind of gesture.  
  
He'd gone to her cabin the night they set sail from Tortugua, hoping beyond hope that she would let him apologise in the only way he really could, with his hands and with his kiss. To write the words on her skin that he couldn't seem to say.  
  
But she'd given him one disgusted look, and he knew that it was going to take more then a caress to get her to forgive him. She was after his blood.  
  
On second day, when they'd come across a ship worth looting, he'd realised what a real danger there was in pissing of the captain. It was a private boat, beautifully crafted, white sails fluttering against a crystal clear blue ocean. It reminded him of one of the paintings in his father's study. He'd almost regretted that they'd had to ruin its journey.  
  
It had been an easy enough job, boarding the boat without so much as a shot fired. The passengers, about twenty of them, stood watching as the pirates ransacked the rooms, taking the woman's jewellery, the crate of beautifully crafted swords that were to be sold in London, the gifts for a General's marriage. Sparrow had been the last on the ship, gazing at the smooth wood and beauty of the vessel.  
  
He hadn't noticed the waves of anger that were contorting one man's face. He hadn't even noticed the man reaching down into his boot, drawing a small knife.  
  
He did notice however, when a small blade planted itself in the wood next to his left ear. His eyes widened startled. He leapt, knocking the man unconscious with he butt of his musket, kicking him for good measure.  
  
He'd looked up, to see Ana-Maria watching him icily from the Portella, her arms folded across her chest. He gapped at the look in her eyes, and knew without a question that she'd seen the man draw the knife.  
  
"Come on Sparrow, stop messing around." She said, turning to watch Crow and Vincent carry a crate below deck. "And grab that knife too, that's an emerald on the hilt," She called over her shoulder.  
  
"Bloody hell," Sparrow muttered, rubbing his left ear nervously. He gave the man one extra kick, so that blood bleed from the man's temple. "Not even a bloody word of warning."  
  
He crossed the plank that had been erected between the two vessels, fingering the dagger unhappily. He stepped ungracefully back onto the Portella, and was particularly upset to have Carlos appear next to him. He swayed away slightly giving Carlos a seriously worried look, not that Carlos noticed.  
  
"I saw that. Our Captain seems to have it in for you. I'm glad I'm not in your shoes." Carlos joked, nudging Sparrow in the ribs.  
  
"I'm glad that you're not in my shoes either." Sparrow said slowly, his eyes thinning, glancing down at his feet and giving Carlos a weird look.  
  
The strange things some people say, Jack Sparrow thought with a shake of his head.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Ana-Maria?" Captain Jack Sparrow said questioningly. She opened her eyes lazily.  
  
"What?" She said sweetly, for once without an bitter undertone. His hand found its way to her jaw, his thumb rubbing her cheek softly.  
  
"You're wearing my hat." He said after a moments pause.  
  
"It's a very nice hat." Ana-Maria said agreeably.  
  
"Interesting. If the crew burst in here, finding you wearing nothing but my hat, it wouldn't be good for your reputation. Think of all the terrible things they'd think. I think you should give me my hat back." Sparrow continued smoothly. Ana-Maria looked thoughtful, resting her head on her arms, and raising her eyebrows.  
  
"At least I'm wearing more then you." She retorted savagely. Jack Sparrow gave his characteristic perplexed look. He glanced down as though shocked by his nakedness. Ana-Maria rolled her eyes.  
  
"That's a good point though. We really should get on deck before the Gibbs starts asking after us." She said, stretching and uncurling almost cat like.  
  
"No," Jack sulked, pulling her back down beside him. "No getting up. I'll let you wear my hat." He tempted her. She laughed.  
  
"But Jack, its not going to be that hard for them to figure out what were doing, when both of us fail to emerge from our cabins. Most of them can put two and two together." She said, pulled her neck away from her left shoulder, leaving her left neck exposed temptingly.  
  
Jack raised a finger as if to argue.  
  
"I said most of them." She added quickly. Jack nodded, his finger still raised.  
  
"You're right." He said with a nod of the head. "Can't lazy around in here all day. However, you're going to have to do something for me." He said quite seriously. He had a speculative look in his eye.  
  
"What?" She asked, sitting up, pulling her sheets around her. She was startled by the seriousness of his tone.  
  
"You're going to have to go get my eyeliner out of my cabin." He said with a cringe, predicting the number of slaps that she gave him. He grabbed her wrists after the first few, and made a face. "I'm being serious. You're going to have to get my eyeliner."  
  
"Jack!" She exclaimed. "You are the most ridiculous, crazy, vain man I've ever known." Jack took a moment to register all those adjectives.  
  
"Possibly." He said after a moment.  
  
"And why can't you go do it?" She said. He leant over, taking the hat of her head, and replacing it on his.  
  
"Because, my dear sexy beautiful, wen.... sailor you," He corrected his compliment at the last second. "I can't be seen without my eyeliner, not by any of the crew." He said slowly, shaking his head at each word to amplify its meaning.  
  
"Jack!" She shouted again. Then she was silenced by a long kiss. He still held her wrists. Releasing them, he opened her hands, so that their palms were flat against each other while they kissed.  
  
"Fine." She said afterwards, biting his lip slightly.  
  
"Now that's a good lass." He said, keeping his grin to himself while she got dressed. It wasn't till she left, slamming the door behind her, that he allowed a slight snigger to burst out of him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * 


	14. For Crowns and Eyeliner

* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"I mean, the nerve of that man," Ana-Maria muttered. "Eyeliner. Could you be any more damn feminine? I don't even own eyeliner. Bloody pirates, he gives us a bad name." She padded bare foot down the corridor, feeling the roughness of the wood scratching at her feet. She didn't need to steady herself on the wall as she went along, born to navigate to the rise and fall of the waves as the sea pitched the ship this way and that.  
  
She exchanged a curt, but downcast look with that unbelievably short pirate, what was his name? God, could Gibbs have pulled together a stranger crew.  
  
She paused, checking no one was in the corridor, then pushed open the heavy door that lead to Jack's cabin. Well, really Barbossa's cabin, as Jack actually hadn't spent more then about three hours in there last night. Sure, the crew had cleaned it out while Jack had been in Port Royal's prison, and christened it Jack's cabin again. Still, Jack hadn't had long enough on the Pearl to reacquaint himself with the room. Long enough for him to find a place for his eyeliner apparently, Ana-Maria thought grumblingly.  
  
The door creaked as it opened, and Ana-Maria put the light carefully in first, following almost nervously. Well, it had been the bedroom of an undead creature for ten years. And they still hadn't found that wretched monkey. It might have somehow managed to get its way in here.  
  
She tiptoed into the room, and then stopped dead. Whatever she'd been expecting, some evil resurrection of Barbossa or an undead monkey fling at her face, it hadn't been this.  
  
Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner lay under the blankets on the bed, coiled around each other in an extremely naked sleep. Elizabeth lay on her back, one of Will's arm's strewn across her, thankfully hiding the small assets she had from view. Will lay on his front, his face turned to the left so his breath tickled Elizabeth's ear. Ana-Maria was embarrassed to notice how tussled the pair's hair was, and patted her own hair nervously.  
  
She was even more embarrassed when Elizabeth's eyes slowly fluttered open, a content sigh escaping her lips. Ana-Maria froze again, having no idea what to do. She could see Jack's eyeliner, along with his guns and rings, sitting on the bedside table. But she getting at them would require moving.  
  
Elizabeth looked up, seeing the pirate girl standing there, and her breath stopping. Her eyes passed from her sleeping lover to the frozen girl and back again. Surprisingly, she didn't bolt out of bed. She simply made a little sheepish face, like a girl court with cookie crumbs all over her.  
  
"What are you doing here?" She mouthed at Ana-Maria. Ana-Maria opened her mouth a few times, cursing Jack.  
  
"Jack. He want's his eyeliner." Was all she could manage. Elizabeth made a tiny nod, careful not to move and wake Will beside her.  
  
"Sounds like Jack. Did you two make up then?" Elizabeth whispered as Ana- Maria slid forward, claiming her prize. Ana-Maria blushed, and Elizabeth smiled secretly. She glanced at Will again, her smile growing deeper and more content.  
  
"Ah, sorta." Ana-Maria replied, now it was her turn to be sheepish.  
  
"For all faults, Jack's got his heart in the right place." Elizabeth said in a hushed voice. Ana-Maria nodded, and bolted. The blonde girl smiled softly to herself, marvelling at the turn of events that had brought her here. Will shifted in his sleep beside her and she closed her eyes, content just to listen to the sound of his breath.  
  
Ana-Maria was careful not to slam the door, but once on the other side, she made a silent scream. She shuddered violently. That has got to be the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to her. She looked down at the eyeliner in her hand, and clenched her fist around it.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * It was cold, on deck. Ana-Maria stood silent on the Portella, not daring to break the mood by humming.  
  
She wondered where he was spending his nights, and she hated herself for wondering. She wanted to know where he slept, whether he had a bunk by the window so he could watch the surging waves, or whether he sat each night with a ball of guilt in his stomach that rotted away inside him like bad rum. She wanted to know if he was sorry, whether he knew he was a dog, a snake in the manger, that should be beaten and cussed and have pointy bits of wood thrown at it.  
  
She wanted him back in her arms again.  
  
She hated waking up, in the wide bed that her father had slept in when he was captain, all alone. She lay awake during the nights, thinking she could hear someone breathing behind the lull of the waves. She imagined that she could feel the hot breath on the back of her neck.  
  
Sometimes she thought it was Jacks, and took comfort in her waking dream.  
  
Most of the time though, she thought of her father. Thought of him lying there, as he had in those final days, his eyes bloodshot, staring unseeingly at the roof above. She had liked to pretend that he was staring through the roof, up at the stars or the sun behind it. But she knew he hadn't been. He'd been waiting, while death's cold grip grew stronger on him.  
  
The entire ship reeked of him to her. She saw his presence everywhere, imagined his strong black hand guiding the ship, or him climbing up to the birds nest, a knife nestled between his teeth. It seemed to her that she could hear his laughter everywhere. She missed him.  
  
And she missed Jack. She missed his laughter, and his kisses on her shoulders in the morning. She missed the way he looked at her, the longing in his eyes. She missed the way he made her feel.  
  
Mainly she missed talking to him, she missed the little conversations that they'd had.  
  
She hated seeing him everyday, right there, so damn close but so far away. It made it worse somehow, missing him when he was right there in front of her.  
  
Mainly she was just sick of being angry with him. She hated him, hated what he'd done, but..... she couldn't change that she still wanted him.  
  
Maybe this was why, when on that night after Turner had asked to go back to London, that she stayed on deck all night. Too many memories in that room down there, her cabin.  
  
She cradled the wheel in one hand, loving that she was taller then it now. She remembered being seven, her head barely reaching the middle of it.  
  
She stood thinking, her head on a slight angle as though she was listening to the advice of the ocean. Her had dipped slightly on her head, stay hairs tugged by the wind. If felt so much like that other night, that first night with Jack, when they'd dropped her father into the ocean.  
  
Maybe this parrel was why she wasn't surprised to see Jack come on deck, walking away from her towards the other end of the ship. She didn't call out to him, just watching him.  
  
He was walking different, she noticed. There was a slight sway in the hips, a slight swagger. When and where in the hell had he picked that up from? She supposed that it was from not being a natural sailor, a way to balance himself from the rock of the boat. And he was still wearing that damn crown, though now it sat more firmly on his head.  
  
He stood there silently for a long time. His white shirt, a few sizes to large for him, rippled softly in the wind, and he had something in his hands. Something he slid back and forth, frowning slightly. A green gem glinted in the darkness. It was the dagger, Ana-Maria thought guiltily.  
  
Damn him, she thought. Interrupting her own thinking session, having one of his own.  
  
As though he heard her, his head swung around and he squinted up at her. It must have been the first time their eyes met for, well, since they left Tortugua. It seemed like she spent so much of her time politely avoiding his eye, politely avoiding going into a conversation when he was there. She spent more time avoiding talking to him then doing bloody much else recently.  
  
She was surprised when he didn't head back, well, politely below deck. It was what she would have done. Instead he practically bounded up the stairs to her. She shifted her weight to one leg, uncomfortable.  
  
"Hi." He said, and then frowned, as though he'd forgotten what he was going to say.  
  
"Hi," She said with a sneer. Bugger off, bugger off, I'm still mad at you, she thought grumpily. Instead, he lowered himself down to sitting cross- legged on the deck, and started to inspect his hands. He didn't say another thing.  
  
Ana-Maria waited. Waited for him to start some big apology speech so that she could walk off in a huff, or for him to get angry and piss her off so she could punch and beat his sorry arse black and blue. But he said nothing.  
  
So they say there in silence beneath the black sails, and Ana-Maria felt slightly less alone.  
  
"Oh, damn you." She muttered. His head snapped up, and he grinned contagiously. She grinned back at him ruefully. And then she shook her head, and stared rigidly at the ocean before her. But the smile stayed on both their lips, and things felt a little easier.  
  
She leant forward, and snatched the crown of his head.  
  
"I get to wear the crown." She said mulishly.  
  
"Aye, Captain."  
  
"Dickhead." She added.  
  
It was a step.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * 


	15. Its true flattery really gets you no whe...

Okay, I know what your thinking. When is Sparrow going to steal the bloody boat already? Well, I've written the chapter where he does, so it's coming next update (whoops, did that ruin the suspense?) I've been having a little bit of writers block about the whole stealing thing because bits and pieces of Jack's relationships have changed so this story isn't turning out how I intended. And I really really wanted to include that damn broken compass.  
  
I'm also thinking of reformatting the whole thing, so there aren't quite so many chapters...Arg. But I've got both entire plots, past and present, written in my head now, so now I just have to get it onto the damn screen. The story won't be that much longer folks. And I swear, there are plots! There's ships blowing up and everything.  
  
As usual, my unlimited love and adoration to all reviewers, even if you just want to say, hey, I read your story. (  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Oh, little Sparrow?" Ana-Maria said enticingly, her voice sickly sweet which meant she was pissed off.  
  
"Dear Ana-Maria?" Jack replied, sitting up on the bed fully dressed, his grin completely hidden from sight. He was the aura of innocence. She made a face at him, and he made one back at her.  
  
She broke the silence first.  
  
"Get ya boots of my bed." She snapped. He kicked his shoes off obligingly. She sat down next to him on the bed, holding out the eyeliner. His eyes glinted. He reached up to take it, but Ana-Maria snatched it away from his griping hands. She stared at him demurely, her veil of hair curling, a stray stand falling onto her face.  
  
"My darling Ana-Maria," Jack said, with his gushing display of charm that he gave women when he thought he might deserve a slap. "My sexy beautiful, charming wench..." That got him a slap across the face.  
  
"Don't even think about saying that you didn't deserve that." Ana-Maria said, her arms folded across her chest.  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it," He said through his teeth, his face still half turned round from the blow of the slap.  
  
"My dear, sexy, beautiful, pirate woman," He started again.  
  
"You forgot charming." She said cattily. He leant forward, like a drunk story teller.  
  
"That I did, but I think a woman who slaps like that can't be charming." She slapped him again, harder. He growled, wincing slightly with pain.  
  
"You deserved that one." She said, a hint of a smile on her lips now.  
  
"I probably did." He conceded. "Now that you've got your wonderful morning humour out of you system," She raised her hand warningly and he continued hurriedly. "I was wondering whether you be wanting to give me that eyeliner." He said extremely politely, an almost desperate look on his face. She dropped her hand, jutting her chin and looking away from him.  
  
"No." She said finally.  
  
"Why the hell not?!" He half yelled, his attempt at politeness breaking down.  
  
"Jack Sparrow," She said smoothly.  
  
"Captain, Captain Jack Sparrow if you're going to be slapping me." He interjected, rubbing his jaw.  
  
"Did you forget to mention something to me earlier?" She asked.  
  
"What? What did I forget?" He said despairingly. "I told you that you looked pretty, didn't I?" He looked at her stern face and winced again. "You do look very pretty." He said, a fearful look on his face.  
  
"Did you forget to mention something to me when you asked me to go to your cabin?" She asked again with care not to get angry. He shook his head, gesturing that he had no clue what she was talking about. "When you sent me to your cabin, and forgot to tell me about its occupants maybe?"  
  
"Occupants?" He said, still pretending to be confused.  
  
"Elizabeth and Will, Jack!! Elizabeth and Will." She said, raising her hand to slap him again, she was so frustrated. "Tall blonde lady and a boy with a poncy hat, ring any bloody bells, Captain Jack Sparrow?" She said the last words dangerously, her chin rising and falling as she spat out each word.  
  
He bit his lip, and finally allowed the smile to form. She stared at him. He looked up at her, trying to look sheepish.  
  
"Oh you bastard." She said finally, letting the funniness of the situation wash over her. "You just wanted a bloody check up on how they were going!" He suddenly when serious, and raised his eyebrows.  
  
"How were they going?" She shook her head, turning her face away. "Oh, come on Ana-Maria, just tell, was she naked?" Ana's head snapped back around, and scanned his face. He darted his eyebrows up and down. Ana-Maria shook her head with rage. His face dropped.  
  
"She wasn't naked? Maybe that boy's an eunuch after all." He eyes widened as he processed this information. Ana-Maria dropped her head in her hands.  
  
"Oh, Jack!"  
  
"Well, what other explanation can there be for her not being naked?" Jack continued. "I mean, Elizabeth's an attractive girl, and the boy may be a bit slow on the uptake, but even he should know what to do on their wedding night. I mean, if it had been me."  
  
"You better not finish that sentence, Mr Jack Sparrow." Ana-Maria said, her face still in her hands. "Of course she was bloody naked."  
  
"Oh." Jack stopped, and then smiled. "Good old Will." He said, his eyes distant. Then he refocused on Ana, and made an ashamed face. "Sorry bout that love. But its fun to see you squirm."  
  
"What are they doing here Jack?" She said, still recovering. Jack put his arm around her, comfortingly, and kissed the top of her head.  
  
"We picked them up last night, after you went to your cabin. They thought it might be best to get married quickly, before Liz's father changed her mind. They also thought it might be a good idea to get out of Port Royal for a while, in case the Commodore decided to throw Will in jail after all."  
  
"And they're in your cabin because?" Ana-Maria asked. She looked up at Jack, and the constantly surprising man he was and sighed. Then she laughed, somehow managing to see the funny side of the situation.  
  
"Well, its their honey moon." Jack grinned. "Why else do you think I came down here? I needed a place to sleep." He batted off the body slaps that this comment received.  
  
"Oh, you. you. pirate you." Ana-Maria cursed, not being able to think up a better description.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
A month later, finished with their business of a while, and having as much as a holiday as pirates get, the Portella was nuzzled cosily into a bay; they had bought and traded enough for the town folk to let them stay in the port for the night. Thank god not all ports were intend on hanging every pirate they saw.  
  
Ana-Maria found herself walking down the beach adjacent to the port, her feet dragging in the sand, leaving ruts rather then footprints. She fiddled with the long emerald she still wore. She was becoming attached. She closed her eyes, imagining, no, not Jack Sparrow, someone else. Think of someone else, she thought snakily.  
  
"Arg. Stop this." She muttered. "I'm bloody pirate, I don't need any man wrapped around me on a beach."  
  
"You know, talking to yourself is the first sign of madness." Turner said, emerging from the trees. Ana-Maria rolled her eyes.  
  
"Thanks, Turner," She licked her lips, gave him a long look. "You're going to ask me when we're going to England again aren't you?" Turner rubbed his goatee, nodding guilty. He pursed his lips, jamming his hands in his pockets and came to stand next to her.  
  
"And you were hoping that it was Sparrow following you." Turner said unceremoniously. Ana-Maria shot him a sharp look, prepared to deny it. Turner shrugged.  
  
"Maybe just a little." She conceded.  
  
Her and Sparrow had been talking again, conversations stolen here and there, and smoke shared in the darkness. But neither seemed ready to broach the ever-increasing physical gab.  
  
Ana-Maria and Turner were silent for a second, taking in the night. It was a beautiful night. The sea was dark enough so that it was almost impossible to tell where the sea ended and the sky began. Turner sat down, gesturing for Ana-Maria to do the same.  
  
"You know, I love the Caribbean. I gave up my home, and I think lost part of my heart to it. It something I chose. I was greedy, maybe. And I was hungry for adventure." He said calmly. Then he looked over at Ana-Maria calculatingly. "But I chose it. Do you know how old I was when I became a pirate?" Ana-Maria shook her head dispassionately.  
  
"I was twenty one. I was a full grown man."  
  
"And your point Turner?" Ana-Maria asked, getting sick of how many times people pointed out the failings of her youth. "Ana, you're like a daughter to me. And I know it saddened Gull to think..." He stopped, dropping his head. "Is not my place." He said simply. He made as if to rise. Ana-Maria grabbed his arm.  
  
"What? What did my father, what used to sadden him? Turner.... Bill, please." Ana-Maria asked, her voice cracking slightly. The big pirate pursed his lips, his greasy hair falling slightly over his face. He pulled a face, debating his words.  
  
"It saddened him, that you'd never have any other life." Turner said finally. "What?" Ana whispered so quietly that it was barely auditable. But the shock and outrage was evident in her face, in the widening of her eyes.  
  
"You never got to chose whether this was the life you wanted. To be a pirate or not. I think, I know, it saddened him somehow. I think he was afraid he'd disappointed your mother, by the way he raised you." He pushed his hair back off his face.  
  
"He asked me, he said if he never got the chance, well he wanted me to ask you to think long and hard about this life. I mean, girl, none of us would blame ya if you wanted to give it up. That Portella's too full of memories. And we've got gold enough for you to just..." He faltered again. "I just wanted to tell ya, because I don't think he ever got the chance to." He stood, leaving gorge marks in the soft sand.  
  
"If your worried about my captaining abilities..." Ana-Maria started. Turner waved a hand, silencing her.  
  
"I'd just never want my son not to have the chose. And you're like a daughter to me, girl. Just think about it." He said, turning to leave. "Oh, and Sparrow's in the bushes. Relieving himself. You guys talk out your lovers tiff." He continued with his back turned. "And don't worry girl. I'm no teller of tales."  
  
Ana-Maria stared wordlessly after his retreating back. Turner walked with an odd grace on the sand, his pirate accent softened by his British background.  
  
Sparrow stumbled out, a rum bottle in hand. He paused a few steps behind Ana-Maria. He looked from his rum bottle to her to the rum bottle again. The he raised his eyebrows sceptically and shaking his head in case she wasn't real.  
  
He collapsed on the sand next to her.  
  
"Where'd Will go off to then?" Jack asked, nudging her. He offered her the rum bottle, with she turned down with just the wave of a hand. Not even an angry wave, just a dreamy, distant one.  
  
"Jack?" She asked finally.  
  
"Hmmm?" He murmured, half to her, and half to the bottle.  
  
"Look at me." She said, turning the full extent of her brown eyes on him. He looked at her, at the eyes that were so dark they seemed to be made out of charcoal, and how they welled with sadness. So beautiful.  
  
Whatever she was searching for she seemed to find very quickly, raising her hand and slapping him hard across the face.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Ah, my first slap." Jack said reminiscently. Ana-Maria scowled.  
  
"Yeah, but not your last."  
  
"No," Jack shook his head sadly. * * * * * * * * * * * 


	16. Stupid mutinous apples

* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"I don't think I deserved that." Jack said slowly, rubbing his tongue over his teeth which felt like they'd all been dislodged.  
  
"Are you sure Jack? Think harder."  
  
"Maybe I did." He reiterated.  
  
"Are you sober now?" She asked, wrapping her arms around her knees.  
  
"Are you going to hit me again if I say no?" She gave him a long, measured look. "Yes. Very sober. Never been soberer."  
  
"Have you got your sword?" She said quietly, her eyes on the sea.  
  
"Yeeesh." He slurred slightly. "Why? You can't have it." He said as an after thought.  
  
"Get up Jack. I going to fight you." She said, standing. She grabbed the rum bottle, throwing it away. Jack stood up warily, wobbling slightly.  
  
"Why?" He asked. "What I do? Do I want to know the answer?" He asked fearfully.  
  
"Because I need to hit something." She said angrily.  
  
"Oh, I seem to have lost my shoes." He said slowly. "And my socks. Can't fight with out my shoes and socks."  
  
"Sure you can Jack." Ana-Maria said dangerously sweetly. "You better be able to fight, cause otherwise I'm just going to have to kill you." She drew her sword. Jack attempted a fearful smile.  
  
When he saw she was serious, his expression became one of the very very afraid.  
  
"Bloody woman with anger management issues." Jack said, making the sign of the cross and squinting at her as though predicting extreme pain.  
  
They started, Ana-Maria darting this way and that, her eyes ferocious. Jack, having difficulty standing, did little other then meet her blows. They circled on the beach, and Ana-Maria slowly pushing him further away from the waves. Finally, she darted forward, slashing his left arm. He looked down at the blood.  
  
"Ana-Maria!" He said shocked. He looked from the cut to her and back again.. She shrugged, rolling her shoulders.  
  
"Come on Sparrow, stop dancing, and actually try to cut me."  
  
"I don't want to cut you," He said, but she wasn't listening to him. Her lips were moving, and as they continued, she starting muttering out loud.  
  
"Didn't want me to be a pirate, how dare he. Leave me all alone, no future, doesn't want me, how dare he, bloody Turner." Sparrow's eyes widened, listening to the downpour of words. She was sweating now, Sparrow sword slashing wildly but never touching her. He made a slash at her legs, and she jumped gracefully, bring her sword up so that he barely stopped a blow to the head.  
  
He was sobering up now, working silently to fend of her blows. She was panting, and her blows became more erratic. Finally, she swung the sword wildly with one hand, raising her other to whack him in the face. Sparrow blocked her arm about a second from connecting with her face. She dropped her sword, and starting hitting Sparrow's chest aggressively. Her tiny fists connected again and again, as she growled in frustration. He let her do it, slowly raising his arms around her and holding her to his chest while she shivered.  
  
"Never do it again. Never. Ever." She said into his chest.  
"Okay." He replied, closing his eyes and stroking her back with his hand. She sniffed, and nodded turning her head.  
  
"You're bleeding."  
  
"Funny that." He said grinning.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Bloody woman taking their anger out on me." He said, looking down at her.  
  
"Do you want another slap?" Jack thought about this for a moment.  
  
"If I say no will you slap me anyway?"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"You know, your slaps are pretty painful." Jack said, carefully reapplying his eyeliner. Ana-Maria was smoothing the sheets.  
  
"I know."  
  
"More painful then most." He raised his chin, checking for the signs of bruising. "And I'm know a bit about slaps."  
  
"I know." She smiled smugly, rearranging the pillow. She turned, placing her hands on her hips. Jack stood, happy with his appearance. She examined him for a moment.  
  
"Come here. It needs smudging." She leant up, rubbing the eyeliner under his eyes just a little bit so that it gave him a smoky gaze. Jack frowned, and bending over to look in the mirror. He looked at his face from a few angles, grinning to confirm that his gold teeth were still there, and stood up proudly.  
  
Ana-Maria tilted her head and smiled.  
  
"Do you know what I thought, when I saw you on that pier in Tortugua?" Jack said advancing on her, placing his hands on her hip. Ana- Maria removed his hat with one hand and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Something along the lines of, oh no, she's going to hit me,"  
  
"No," Jack said grinning.  
  
"Ow, that hurt." Ana-Maria proposed.  
  
"Well, initially, yes those were my first thoughts. But then I was thinking how good you looked, how I wanted to do this to you again." He leant his head in for a kiss.  
  
"Was that before or after I slapped you?" Ana-Maria asked. Jack fingers ran through the hair near her ear.  
  
"Perhaps a little after."  
  
"Jack! Is all you ever think about when I'm angry is how you want to get in my pants? Do you even listen to me?" Jack made a shifty movement with his eyes.  
  
"Do you want me to say yes?"  
  
"Jack." She said sternly. He rubbed her ear, kissing her consolingly.  
  
"But, really Ana-Maria, the first words out of your mouth, after five years, are 'You stole my ship!'" He placed his hand on his heart, and she bite her lip remorsefully. "And you were so happy to see me last time. Where was it? On Antigua."  
  
"You were saving me from the gallows! I would have been happy to see a big pink elephant dancing in a Easter bunny costume if it had gotten me free." Ana-Maria said indignantly. Jack paused, obviously forming a mental image of this in his mind.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Five years after Jack had lost he Pearl, for the first time, he'd found himself thrown of a merchant ship, for reasons he'd rather not disclose, and washed up on a small port in on the island of Antigua.  
  
Nice little port, pleasant people, and enough red coats swarming around the place to make most pirates head for the hills. Jack's swagger (which had managed to develop against the frantic wishes of all pirates) however, was not thrown of by the presence of red coats. Hell, he'd been pissing them of for the last five years, partly when he was bored, and partly by the odours he gave off when he hadn't showered recently.  
  
He walked through the market place, casually commandeering some apples. He tossed one in the air, pursing his lips.  
Only problem with towns like this, he thought to himself, was they were law-abiding. Not a fun loving scallywag in the bunch. How was a pirate meant to have any fun? He tossed the apple again, nearly missing catching it, and receiving a scowl from an old woman. Jack bared his teeth at her, and then continued on as though he hadn't done anything strange.  
  
"Oh no, Jack," He started muttering, glowering at the apple as he tossed it. "Taste this apple, it's so good. So sweet and juicy and perfect," He said in a high-pitched tone, mimicking his first mate. "Why don't you have an apple, and I'll have a look at the map, and hey why don't I bloody turn the whole ship against you and mutiny?" He yelled and flung the apple at a wall. "Bloody stupid mutinying apple." He insulted the now mushy spot on the wall.  
  
He looked around him, and raised his eyebrows. There were a lot of people looking at him. He darted his eyes from side to side, and produced his best smile.  
  
"It was all rotten. Grub in it, yuck." He said, and walked determinedly head down though the crowd. His bad mood lifted when he saw a sigh that made him stop and give a second look. "A hanging? Don't mind if I do. I'll just take a little peek." He said, and made for the town square.  
  
Tossing the other apple he'd stolen, he wandered around the back of the crowd. He leant on post, smiling briefly at the young kids on either side of him, and raised the apple to his mouth. He looked up at the gallows, bitting down into the apple, and stopped, blinking a few times to confirm what he saw.  
  
Ana-Maria stood on the gallows, spitting and cussing. Her long hair was tied back loosely, her hands bound. A short fat man was standing, reading out a list of miss-doings. The small crowd jeered slightly, most listening to the adventures the pirate wench with a bored air.  
  
Jack moved closer, pulling a face. He tossed the apple to one side, sidling up to one man. He really didn't want Ana-Maria to see him. She might still be mad about her ship.  
  
"This thief will hang for a cumulation of charges. The charges are as follows impersonating a lady, thievery of said ladies clothes, thievery of a personal jewels, assault of three officers, damage of a generals personals," That one received a life. " Impersonating a member of her royal navy's.." The list continued, and Jack placed his hand across his eyes as he moved closer.  
  
He was conflicted. He didn't want to see her hang, but she was probably still really mad about the whole ship thing. He winced, and raised an arm.  
  
"Mate, I'm going to intervene." Jack said, climbing up next to the portly man. The man scratched his ear nervously, his wig shaking comically as he did this. He glanced at the pirate, obviously unsure as what to do. He looked around the crowd for any Red coats, but couldn't see any. He turned back to Jack, and said a little pompously.  
  
"Oh yes? Why?" Jack tilted his head an opened his mouth. He closed it wincing and tried again. He raised his chin and pulled a half ridiculous mock stern face.  
  
"Because this lady belongs to me." Jack could see Ana-Maria, who was held with her back to him by the executioner, trying to crane her neck around to see who was talking. He drew the portly man to one side, so that Ana-Maria couldn't see him. The crowd was growing interesting now, trying to listen in on the two men's conversation.  
  
"Does she? She said she was not a slave. She said she belonged to no man." The man was looking worried.  
  
"But isn't that what any slave would say?" Jack said confidingly and with the quirk of an eyebrow. The man looked confused.  
  
"Ah, David?" The man called over to the executioner. "Bring the woman here."  
  
"Yes, Sir Douglas," The man said, spinning Ana-Maria and pushed her forward. Her eyes widened when she saw Jack, and she looked ready to spit tacks.  
  
"You! Oh, no, I don't belong to him." Ana-Maria said angrily. "I don't below to that man at all. You," She said, glowering at Jack in a way that said if-I-had-my-finger-free-right-now-you-can-bet-it-would-be-pointed- at-you-face. "You."  
  
"Oh, Ana, how could you embarrass me so." Jack cut her off smoothly, speaking each word extremely slowly, inclining his head towards the gallows, and then the tubby man and raising his eyebrows. Do-you-want-to- hang? He mouthed at her. "I'm going to take you home. We've been worried sick about you." He grabbed Ana off the executioner, giving both men a nice smile, and walking away, continuing his babble of speech. "Now, its back to laundry duty for you. We were wondering where you hid the socks, can't find a pair in the house."  
  
They made it about ten steps, off the parapet and into the crowd when Sir Douglas came to his senses.  
  
"Hold on a minute. where's you papers. That's a criminal there." He shouted. Sparrow turned, raising one hand, the other one making deft work of cutting the rope around Ana-Maria's hand.  
  
"My papers. funny story. Run" He said, shoving Ana-Maria forward. They bolted, hearing the man behind them shout out to Red coats that appeared on the side of the courtyard.  
  
They ran, Ana-Maria dropping the cords, until they reached a fork in the road. Ana-Maria turned to Jack.  
  
"You saved my life." She stated, completely shocked. She grabbed Jack by the dread locks, planted a hurried kiss on his lips. Jack broke away, then paused and kissed her again.  
  
Just then a gunshot rang out behind them, and they exchanged a startled look. Jack raised a hand.  
  
"Not right now love." Jack said, and dashed off into the crowd. He ran for about five blocks, and then realised he'd lost Ana-Maria. He made a loop back around the block, but couldn't find her anywhere. He frowned, and then pulled out the purse he'd flinched of Sir Douglass. Not bad, for a bit of fun after lunch, he said, wandering away.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
"Yes, but I thought you might be more inclined to say, oh Jack, lets talk about old times, thanks for saving me at the gallows, you stole my ship, slap." Jack said. Ana-Maria rolled her eyes.  
  
"You really know nothing about woman, Jack Sparrow." Jack shrugged, happy to have her in his arms.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * 


	17. A face from the Past

Sorry for any inconvenience from me re-arranging the chapters yesterday! I promise I'll update tomorrow, I've got the next few chapters written. And I couldn't resist a bit of fortune telling. Hugs and Kisses, Tinkabelle.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
They made their way off the beach, and to the bar, Jack having managed to find his shoes back in the bushes. Ana-Maria, whose arm had been wrapped around his waist during the walk, pushed him off her, and straightened her hair when they found the bar.  
  
Most of the crew were there, sitting out on the balcony that backed on to the beach. Most were already uproariously drunk, and providing the locals with entertainment for the night.  
  
Turner signalled for the two of them to come over.  
  
"Ana-Maria, we've got a fortune teller here! Come on, we'll have your fortune told." He passed her a tankard, which Ana-Maria drank politely from. Sparrow signalled to the barmaid that he'd have one of the same.  
  
"Oh, I don't believe in all that stuff." Ana-Maria said a little stiffly, the information Turner had given her early still fresh in her mind.  
  
"Oh, come on Captain, it won't hurt. She told that young recruit Barbossa to eat plenty of apples this year."  
  
"What?" Sparrow said grinning, leaning on the table. "That's what my dad used to say so that my teeth wouldn't rot. That's an olds wives tail. Where is this lady?" He said, looking around. "I'd like to meet this great fortune teller."  
  
Turner called her over, splashing more beer on his already soddened shirt. Crow and Vincent laughed.  
  
"She's a might pretty fortune teller." Crow said.  
  
"Yeah, not a crone in sight." Vincent chipped it.  
  
And they were right, she was about thirty, dark but relatively good looking. She certainly wasn't of the haggard variety. She extended a hand to Sparrow. He shook hands with her, and then she turned his palm over, gazing intently down at his hand.  
  
"Aren't I meant to pass your hand with gold first?" He joked.  
  
"I see. three ships." She said, ignoring. Jack grinned.  
  
"Really! My own fleet."  
  
"Two are sinking around you."  
  
"Oh." Jack said, downcast. The pirates laughed, nudging each other. The fortune-teller continued as though she hadn't been interrupted.  
  
"And the one you take will be filled with death when you find it, and when you lose it." She said. "Now you can give me gold if you like." She said in a way that wasn't a question.  
  
"Come on, read the captains palm." Turner said, nudging her. Ana-Maria shook her head.  
  
"No. I don't want to hear anything," She said, folding her arms across her chest. The fortune-teller gave her a long speculative look.  
  
"Wise are the ignorant. Here," She said, reaching for Turner's hand. "Strong man, brave but." She quirked her eyebrows. "Here, says you shall be killed by your bootstraps." She said, half jokingly. The men around him laughed, Ana-Maria rolling her eyes.  
  
"Oh yeah." Turner said grinning. "Worse ways to go." He said with mock seriousness, glancing around at the crew. The fortune-teller smiled. Then she paused, her eyes growing humourless.  
  
"I see, the ocean," Ana-Maria scoffed slightly at this. "I see endless days, the waves silent to you overhead, and then." She looked up, her calm face worried. Turner smiled comfortingly.  
  
"Tis a pirates death, dropped into the ocean, nothing more." He said.  
  
She frowned, but moved her hand away, looking at another line on his hand. "Ah, here's a child, beautiful child, with the gift for happiness" She continued, the moment of disquiet passing.  
  
"Drinks all round." Ana-Maria called, ending the concentration everyone had had on the reading. "To the Portella and to riches."  
  
"To the Portella and riches." They echoed, drained their cups.  
  
Out on the bay, another ship docked.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
It was a long night, and the cups were drained steadily. Ana-Maria became a giggling mess, wrapping her arms around Barl and Sparrow. Most of the other men also were pretty out of it, either silently concentrating on blinking in a corner, or singing uproariously.  
  
Turner nudged Sparrow.  
  
"You better get her outta here. She's gunna regret it in the morning." Sparrow nodded, holstering Ana-Maria's weight completely on him, and dragging her out of the bar.  
  
"You know, I think you really should grow that beard we were talking about." She said conversationally, leaning heavily on him.  
  
"Oh yeah," He said distractedly, trying to navigate his way down the street. He nodded at the locals he passed.  
  
"Yeah, a little beard, not too long." She paused. "You know, if I were a guy pirate, I'd have a beard. It would be fun. And I'd sing, all the time."  
  
"Oh yeah?" He repeated, trying to hide his smile.  
  
"Are you laughing at me Johnny. I mean, Jack Sparrow?" She said blearily.  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it." He replied. Down on the pier, three people were standing. Two men, and a woman in a white cloak. They were talking quietly, and Sparrow squinted at them. Something familiar..  
  
"Is that. nah" He muttered quietly. "Can't be," The woman turned, looking to see who was approaching. He nearly dropped Ana-Maria in fright. The woman's mouth dropped slightly.  
  
"John?" She said, taking a step towards him. Her blonde hair fell straight off her shoulders, her elegant face shocked. "Is that you John?"  
  
"Is not John. Is Sparrow." Ana-Maria mumbled.  
  
"Aye," He said automatically. His face was covered in confusion. "I mean, yes, its me."  
  
"Julia, we've going back to the ship. Tom will be wondering where we got to." One of the men said gruffly, grabbing her elbow. His eyes ran disrespectfully over Ana-Maria and Jack. "Stop talking to pirate scum." He spat.  
  
"Pirate?" Julia whispered, a shadow crossing her youthful face. Jack was consciously very aware of his arm draped around Ana-Maria's shoulder.  
  
"Well.." He started. He looked over to the ship, his mouth open. "I ah.. Um.."  
  
"He's Captain Jack Sparrow, my little pirate." Ana-Maria said dreamily. Jack was starting to seriously wish he hadn't challenged her to a game of shots.  
  
Julia's eyes were fixed on his face, speechless. She nodded, and allowed herself to be lead away, glancing back over her shoulder with a disturbed look in her eye.  
  
Sparrow helped Ana-Maria into bed, and then sat down on the floor by the fireplace, allowing the knowledge he'd just gained to sink in.  
  
Julia. Here. And Tom. His half brother. Here.  
  
It seemed like no matter how far you ran, your old life would eventually catch you up. 


	18. The seeds of Betrayal

* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The next morning, Ana-Maria was not looking good. She staggered on deck, thankful that most of the men had managed to find their way to beds off the ship. Less people to see her in such a state. She'd left Sparrow in his drunken sleep by the fireplace, leaning against his arm on the wall.  
  
Barl stood up, nodding her a greeting.  
  
"Got a package. For a Captain Jack Sparrow." He said, with a grin. Ana- Maria made a disbelieving face.  
  
"Captain?" She scoffed, and then winced. She touched her temple guiltily. "Don't let me ever drink again."  
  
"Right." Barl said good-humouredly. "Funny though, isn't it? Not that I haven't used that line to pick up a girl before."  
  
"What line?" Ana-Maria said, slow on the uptake. She made a slow, almost limping way up to the wheel. At least there she'd feel slightly more in control, even if her head seemed to want to fall off and roll away.  
  
"Oh, you know. I'm a captain, got my own ship, one of the nastiest pirates you'll ever meet. It's a good pick up line, if your plucky enough to use it." Barl said, following her. Ana-Maria closed her eyes, shaking her head. "The boy's got a bit of spunk though. Came from that other ship that docked last night, rich kids, noble looking girl. Bit of a smooth talker, our old Sparrow."  
  
"Did you look in the package?" She asked. Barl shook his head, patting down his pockets. He pulled it out, a small bulging package. Ana-Maria took it wearily, glancing down at it and shaking her head again.  
  
"I better go give it to the Captain then, better'n I?" She said sarcastically. Barl laughed shortly, and nodded, watching the slight girl make her way back downstairs, her hand on her forehead.  
  
Sparrow was woken when something quite heavy hit him on the head.  
  
"Package for you." Ana-Maria said, after throwing the package at him. She moved to pull open the curtains. Sparrow moaned, rubbing his head.  
  
"Gods, Ana. You know, most people don't get woken up by having things thrown at them." He said rubbing his eyes, and stretching. "Ah, remind me not to sleep there again. Got a bloody crick in my neck." Ana-Maria rolled her eyes and then yawned.  
  
"Most of the sailors are recovering, so I don't think we'll be setting sail today." She murmured.  
  
"What's this then?" He asked, reaching for the package.  
  
"Don't know." She mused. "Came for a Captain Jack Sparrow." She gave him a stern look. "You must have gotten too drunk last night, and told some naïve girl you were a big swashbuckling Captain." She said, relaxing in the chair next the fireplace. Sparrow leant against the side of the chair, and raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Oh yeah? Coming from the queen of drunkenness." He said rolling his head back to receive a little slap across the cheek.  
  
"Remind me to never drink that much again." Ana-Maria replied. Sparrow tore open the side of the package, pouring the contents out into his lap. It was a square black box, and a scrap of paper. He flicked open the box, and found it was a compass.  
  
"What kinda weird woman sends you a compass?" Jack said.  
  
"Maybe she thought you were a really bad pirate, and that you might need it." Ana-Maria suggesting. He passed it up to her, and she examined it. She gave a derisive laugh. "It looks bloody ancient. Oh, and look! It doesn't even point North. Real Juliet you got there, Sparrow. She sent you a broken compass." She snorted, but looked down at Sparrow, whose face had gone completely still. If it were possible, the blood would have drained from his tanned face.  
  
"Oh my god." He muttered.  
  
"What?" Ana-Maria asked.  
  
"I just remembered, we ran into Julia last night."  
  
"Julia? You mean, Julia, your first. Julia? Julia, like, my step sister not by blood Julia?" She said, snatching the letter out of his hands, reading the letter out in an undertone.  
  
"John, I could barely believe it when I saw you last night, I've dreamt of your face so often, I thought you might be another dream. But truly, you were a god sent. You must help me. I've been kidnapped. There's so much to tell you, but I must be brief. Father, your father, after you left, he told mother and everyone that you were his son, and that you were to inherit it all." Ana-Maria paused. "Inherit? Oh my god."  
  
"Tom went insane," Ana-Maria continued reading. "He's got some crazy idea about finding this treasure, at the Ile De Muerta, and winning father back. And he thinks that I set this whole thing up, because of what was between you and me. He swears he's going to kill me when we get to the island. Please you must help me, you must stop Tom, I'm afraid for father and for your mother if Tom succeeds. Greed has driven him mad. I've taken this compass from him, it points to the Island. Tom already has the coordinates, so I don't doubt he shall make it there. Please, come after us. Stop him. With all my love, Julia." Ana-Maria finished in a hushed whisper. She scanned the letter again.  
  
"Ile de Muerta? Oh my god, they're dead already." Ana-Maria whispered.  
  
"What do you mean?" Jack said, spinning round to face her. "What is it?" Ana-Maria bit her lip.  
  
"It's not even real, it's a myth. Its an island you can only get to if you know where it is." She said jaggedly.  
  
"Or if you have this compass apparently." Jack said grimly.  
  
"But, it's not real. And even if it is, you the straits you have to cross, they've sunk a thousand ships. It's a death mission." She stuttered.  
  
"But we have to go." He said, standing, his mind whirling ahead, to Julia, frightened in some cavern.  
  
"Jack, I can't." She said, rising.  
  
"What?" He said, spinning around.  
  
"I can't put the men at risk that way. Julia's ship, its got a full nights start on us, and half the crew aren't on the ship, and how would I rationalise it to them? That I want to chase a foreign ship half way across the ocean on a mission of certain death for what? A girl that they don't know."  
  
"She said there was treasure." He started hopefully. She shook her head, and he gazed heaven wards. "Is that what you pirates what? Treasure and gold, a bit of sparkle?" He snarled, his hands bunching into fists.  
  
"Jack, I can't. I can't do it. I'm sorry. Its not even real."  
  
"If it wasn't Julia you'd help." He said, casting her a suspicious look.  
  
"I can't do it, Jack. I'm sorry. I feel for the girl, but. the navy will be after her anyway. Her father would have," She started, and finished hopelessly. She placed her hands on Jack's shoulders and shook him slightly.  
  
"We're pirates Jack," She tapped him on the chest, "We don't go on rescue missions. Leave that for the Red Coats." Jack looked down at he compass in his hands, and nodded.  
  
"Alright." He said, looking at her with a glint of purpose in his eyes. She touched his cheek.  
  
"I'm sorry. Jack, it shows what good man you are, a noble man, to want to go after her." She said quietly, watching a mix of anger and sorrow play across his face. Her hand moved from his cheek down to his mouth, and her thumb played slightly with his bottom lip.  
  
She kissed him once, slowly, then drawing away. He looked at her, his eyes unreadable. Then he pressed his lips against her, kissing her so hard that she arched back, her body pressed flat against his.  
  
His fingers tore at her clothing, tearing the buttons off her shirt with a passion that she couldn't work out if it was anger or lust.  
  
"Wait, wait, Jack, hold on a second," She said. "I want to tell you something. Look, for a long time, well, being Captain's the only thing I've ever loved, Jack, the only thing I've ever dreamt about. But now, I think.. I think I love you Jack. Jack or John, I love you." She stumbled over her words, looking at the place where his neck meets his shoulders. His face softened, the anger flooding out of him.  
  
He looked into her eyes, saw the raw emotion that was there, and nodded. She kissed him again, slower, more tenderly and he shivered, his eyes fluttering open for a second, with a look that would have chilled Ana- Maria, had she been able to see it.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
He rose, dressing quickly. He didn't have much time, he knew that. Soon, the other pirates would be coming back. Only Turner, Crow, Carlos and the new recruits were on the ship; he'd asked Ana-Maria.  
  
He'd felt guilty, oh so guilty, putting that sleeping drug in her drink.  
  
But he had to find Julia. He couldn't leave her to get murdered.  
  
Jack glanced at the sleeping girl in the bed, her face content, her skin slightly flushed. Having her in his arms again, having her ruffle his hair in that affectionate way, feeling her kiss on his chest. Being able to talk to her again, to touch her.  
  
Why had this had to happen now?  
  
It was tempting, tempting to just forget about Julia, to forsake his old live for his new one.  
  
His old girl for his new one.  
  
But he thought of Julia, of all the love she'd given him, of the trouble he'd caused her. He pulled on his boots, scowling. Ana-Maria was going to be so mad at him when she woke up .  
Turner was playing cards, staring sulkily at them. Crow laughed.  
  
"Come on, or I think there'll be a boot strap coming you way." Crow joked, nudging Turner in the ribs. Jack came up behind them.  
  
"Turner, if I just might have a word?" He said with Jack Sparrow charm, which usually set danger bells going.  
  
"What?" Turner said gruffly, as Jack Sparrow ushered him into a corner of the hull."  
  
"Want to see your wife and kid, Turner?"  
  
Jack wasn't a fool. He knew he couldn't sail an entire ship all by himself to the Ile de Muerta. But something Jack's also always known about is leverage.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * 


	19. The pieces

* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"What do you mean you're stealing the ship? This is down right mutiny." Crow said.  
  
"Not so much mutiny, as collaborative commandeering." Jack interjected, trying to break the long stares that were passing between Crow and Turner. "Really, it's just borrowing without permission."  
  
Carlos sat watching like he was a kid at a show, completely dumbstruck. Goil didn't appear to have noticed, still squinting at his cards. Barbossa was chewing on his lip thoughtfully.  
  
"It's the Ile De Muerta, Crow. Think of it. Think of the gold of Cortez. This boy's got the coordinates and a compass to get us there. More gold then you'll ever see."  
  
"I'm in." Barbossa said. Turner clapped him on the back. Crow nodded, and then frowned.  
  
"Didn't think you'd be in on this Turner. Thought the girl was like a daughter to you." Turner nodded.  
  
"She is. But my read family comes first, always has and always will. Gull will understand why I did it, and as for the rest of you, I'll keep my piece." Jack looked at the old man and nodded.  
  
"What about me?" Carlos said, rubbing his fingers together. Jack gave him a look and shook his head.  
  
Crow and Turner shrugged at each other before clobbering Carlos on the head, knocking him unconscious.  
  
"Where's the girl?" Turner said.  
  
"In her cabin. I'll go get her." Sparrow said grimly. Goil also got a hit on the head, before he could even work out what was happening. Turner and Crow lay the two pirates out on the pier, while Jack dressed Ana-Maria, and brought her out wrapped up in a sheet.  
  
"I'm sorry, love." He whispered, kissing her cheek. "But I couldn't leave her. I'll return it." He added as an after thought, leering over her. He settled her down on the wooden pier. She shifted slightly in her sleep, and he darted away from her.  
  
"Are you sure this isn't mutiny?" Crow asked again, as the four of them set sail. Barbossa kept quiet, his eyes on Jack.  
  
"No, goddamn it." Turner muttered, already feeling guilty. Him and Sparrow exchanged a glance. "It's collaborative stealing, if anything."  
  
Sparrow rubbed his hands over his eyes. She'd understand, she'd understand.  
  
"Anyway, we'll bring it back." He muttered. Turner nodded.  
  
"Yeah, we'll bring it back."  
  
"She's going to be mighty pissed off when she wakes up." Crow commented, the port already becoming smaller and smaller.  
  
"We'll return it." Sparrow repeated, with a worried expression. "And we'll bring her a present. We'll bring her back some gold." The others didn't look convinced.  
  
"And flowers. And chocolate." He added, desperation apparent now. "That'll make it okay, right?" He glanced up at Turner. Turner lay his arm on Sparrow's shoulder.  
  
"Boy, even if you brought her the trunk full of Aztec gold, she'd still cut you up into tiny tiny little pieces." Turner said.  
  
Sparrow winced. * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Ana-Maria woke up on the pier, her head heavier then earlier. The sheet wrapped around her fluttered in the wind, a white beacon next to the calm blue waters. Her skin felt dry, burnt by lying out in the sun, her lips chapped. She looked around groggily; feeling the spray of water hit her back from between the wooden floor of the pier.  
  
She saw Carlos, his thin, angular body tossed on a careless angle next to the hulked form of Goil. The wind flapped her hair against her face, as she looked around, alarm growing in her eyes.  
  
Heavy footsteps were heard, pounding along the pier. Ana-Maria stood, careful to wrap the sheet around her. Thank god, she thought, she had clothes on. Which she hadn't had before... Her hand flew to her mouth. Oh no.  
  
"Where's the ship? What happened?" Barl said angrily, scanning the horizon while Ana-Maria stood in complete shock.  
  
"Oh no." Ana-Maria said, her mouth dropping. She spun around, and looked at the two unconscious men, and then back to Barl. The sheet fell into a puddle around her feet.  
  
"Someone's stolen the god damn ship." Barl yelled. "What the hell happened? Where were the guards? Who did it?" Ana-Maria looked up, her face clouding over. She shook her head, closing her eyes. Barl strode past her, shaking Carlos awake.  
"What the hell happened?" Barl said angrily.  
  
"Sparrow, and Turner stole the ship. Some big plan about gold.. I don't know." Carlos murmured, raising his hand to his head, his fingers coming away bloody. Barl spun around, grabbing Ana-Maria's shoulders.  
  
"You let Turner and Sparrow steal the ship?" He shook her.  
  
"I. I" She said hesitatingly.  
  
"This is your fault, woman." Barl said harshly, releasing her with a flourish. "You took that stupid Sparrow on the boat, named him, probably took him into your bed." Ana-Maria blushed, and Barl clenched his fists in outrage. "You did. You stupid whore, you lost us the boat." Ana-Maria raised her head high, glowering angrily at the pirate who was at least a head taller then her.  
  
"Where the hell were you? Huh Barl? Where were you to protect the ship?" She said. Barl ground his teeth. Then he stepped back, laughing.  
  
"No wonder the ship got stolen, with a woman for a captain." Ana-Maria turned her head as though she'd been slapped. Barl shook his head again.  
  
"Don't you see Carlos, she's a whore, you're all idiots, and I'm a sorry loser." He said, and strode away. Carlos got up to follow him, limping on one leg. Goil remained motionless, blood dripping from his temple.  
  
Ana-Maria stood still, scanning the waters. The wind picked up, dragging the sheet from around her ankles up and out to sea. It fluttered in the wind, before spiralling down into the clear waters of the Caribbean. Ana- Maria glanced one last time at horizon, knowing very well that she would probably very well never chase it again.  
  
She felt something heavy in her pocket, and drew it out slowly. A scrap of one of her red scarfs, unevenly hacked away, was wrapped around a small heavy knife. She pulled it out, revealing the gold inlayed handle with the emerald glinting jealously at the head.  
  
"Oh my god." Ana-Maria murmured, putting her hand to her mouth, and turned her back on the sea, walking like a broken woman into the town.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * 


	20. Drunk philosophising

Holland: You said you were having trouble with reviewing? I have no idea what's wrong. Sorry if I messed things up. Hopefully an update will fix that.  
  
Please tell me what you think, I've felt like the last chapters have been a little off, but I'm getting back it the swing now.  
  
Someone asked me how Ana-Maria could forgive him, and I can only say this: She forgave him because it's what she had to do. Sometimes forgiveness isn't just about the person receiving it; it's about the person giving it. And she loves him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
"Did I ever tell you how sorry I was?" Jack said finally, pulling a face.  
  
"For sending me into that room with Elizabeth and Will?" Ana-Maria asked. Jack nodded. It was night again. The day had been, well, interesting. It seemed the Commodore had decided that maybe he wasn't so happy about Jack's ungraceful escape, and was following then with what looked like every intention of pursuit.  
  
Not that he was any match for the Pearl.  
  
The scraggly bunch of men that Gibbs had put together as a crew had worked long and hard all day, Ana-Maria and Jack amongst them. Though in truth, Jack had more waved his arms around, gesturing to others how they should work, and grinned at his pearl.  
  
Either that or he talked to the parrot. It was worrying actually. He seemed to be taking advice from it now, and that was never a good sign.  
  
"Well," Ana-Maria continued, pulling of her boots. Jack leant against the doorway happily watching her. "I think you might have mentioned it, but I wouldn't mind hearing you say it again." She said primly. Jack came to sit by her at the bed, his theatrical charm enough to make Ana-Maria roll her eyes.  
  
"Then I must apologise from the bottom of my," He paused, raising his eyebrows as he thought of some adjectives. "Scurvy black heart, to have traumatised you in such a way, having to see Elizabeth and Will in bed together." He grinned hopefully.  
  
"Jack, what are you doing in my room?" She said disparagingly.  
  
"Ah, well," He said conspiringly. "Since we didn't have a peep from that lovely couple all day, I'd say they still want to be using my cabin. And I need a place to sleep, my lovely Ana-Maria." He placed his arm around her shoulder, tapping his bejewelled fingers against her skin.  
  
"It's a grand plan, to be sure," Ana-Maria said, mimicking him. "But, Jack, what makes me think I'm going to let you stay here again?" She raised her eyebrows, shaking her head slightly at his mistake.  
  
"Well," Jack said, dropping his head. He then reached into his pocket theatrically, drawing out a bottle of rum and dangling it in front of her face. "Because luvy, I bought you a present."  
  
"Be still my heart." Ana-Maria said sarcastically, shrugging him off, and standing up. She opened her sets of drawers, pulling out her night things. Jack raised an intrigued eyebrow. "Oh get away you," She said when she saw his face. "Now close you eyes while I change. Jack." She growled.  
  
"Never known you one for chastity." He said, before raising his hands, surrendering and closing his eyes. Ana-Maria bit her lip, and then turned her back on him.  
  
"You know, most girls," She started, pulling her undershirt over her head. Jack opened one eye and grinned. "Most girls get flowers and jewellery, and," She continued, pulling off her trousers. "Moon light walks on the beach and declarations of love, and what do I get?" She said, sliding her nightdress over her head. "Rum, and a pirate to boot." She finished turning round, catching Jack with his eyes open.  
  
He panicked slightly, and then shut them as though they had always been closed. Ana-Maria just growled. She looked in the mirror, carefully removing her gold hoop earrings. Then she turned back around, placing her hands on her hips. Jack opened his eyes innocently.  
  
"Does that mean you want me to take the rum back?" Jack leered."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
She lay in his arms, him kissing her shoulder thoughtfully. His beads clanged softly against her skin, the only sound other then their breathing and the creaking of the ship.  
  
"You know, I didn't really think you'd ever do this." She said, tugging at his beard. He widened his eyes.  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"The beads thing. With the plaiting. Its so, you know, girly." Ana-Maria said, laughing as he became upset. "I mean, very manly. Terrifying."  
  
"That's more like it." He said absentmindedly.  
  
"When did you do it anyway?" Ana-Maria asked. Jack frowned, making a dismissive gesture with his hands. He rolled away from her slightly. "What is it?"  
  
"Did it on the island." He said, lying flat on his back. Ana rolled onto her side, and ran her fingers across the scars on his chest distractedly. "Got so bored. Three days is still a long time." Jack said, and Ana-Maria scoffed.  
  
"Oh yeah."  
  
"What? It is." Sparrow said indignantly. "'Specially if you thinking that you're going to die the entire time. Its funny, the whole time, I kinda thought they might come back." Ana-Maria frowned questioningly.  
  
"Jack, they'd mutinied against you and left you for dead."  
  
"I know. But I just, I didn't think they'd truly leave me. Like family to me, those boys were. Barbossa was, we was close. I never thought he truly." His eyes glazed over, and it was like he was talking to himself. Ana-Maria listened sympathetically. "You know, even when I was in that hell hole of a prison in Port Royal......"  
  
"First time or the second time?" Ana-Maria interjected cheekily.  
  
"First time." Jack growled. He raised his arm, putting it around her shoulder so that his fingers could rest on the area between her ribs and her hips. "I was lying in that hell hole, miserable,"  
  
"Only because there was no rum." She said sarcastically. Jack growled, turning his head towards her.  
  
"You gunna let me finish woman?" He said. "God, I get no bloody respect."  
  
"Aye, aye captain." Ana-Maria muttered.  
  
"Anyway, I was lying there, ready to die, but when I heard those cannons, the Pearls cannons, and first thought was 'Their here to save me. My crew's come to save me.' I mean, after ten years," He said, whistling softly through his teeth. "Ten years, and I still. I dunno." He broke off. Ana- Maria shrugged, and moved to kiss his nose sweetly.  
  
"That's cause you're a good man Jack. A loyal man. Cause that's what you'd do. No matter how long it's been, no matter what's happened, you'd still put your neck on the line for one of your people. Elizabeth and Will know that. I know it. Look at how you helped Elizabeth and Will."  
  
"Hmmm. Doesn't make me a good man. Mean's I hold a grudge for a long time." He said quietly. "They've got no delusions as to why I helped them."  
  
"Then why'd you help me?" Ana-Maria said. "In Acadia? Why'd you bother?" He pursed his lips, and shook his head.  
  
"That's a different story."  
  
"Jack, you saved one bullet for ten years, one bullet that could have turned a million fights in your favour, to get back at one man. You went after Julia, after all she'd done to you, after you'd lost everything in your life because of her. And you rescued me, saved me, after five years without a word. A man who does that is a man worth trusting."  
  
"That's different." He repeated.  
  
"Why?" She said curiously.  
  
"What you did, when you came back for me in the Pearl, that was a amazing thing after all I'd done to you. That was something worth commending."  
  
"Jack," She said sternly. "You're changing the subject."  
  
"Ana, I don't change. The years have passed and I haven't changed." He said, looking over at her, for once with utmost clarity in his eyes. "I carried that bullet for Barbossa all those years, and I carried your words with me. You say it's been ten years."  
  
"Eleven." She corrected in a small voice.  
  
"But for me, its..." He shook his head, lost for words. "The sun rises and sets each night, but that doesn't change anything." He said simply.  
  
Ana-Maria smiled, moving so that she lay on top of him, her chin pressed into the hollow of his chest. She stayed there for a moment, and then kissed his cheek.  
  
"Jack,"  
  
"Hmm?" He said, his eyes closed.  
  
"You never stop surprising me." He nodded.  
  
"Good thing. Otherwise I'd probably have to kill you. Can't be predictable now." He said, his breath tickling her hair. He paused, and then added. "Ana-Maria? Don't let me drink and become all philosophical again."  
  
"Check." She murmured before as sleep claimed Jack. "No drunk philosophising."  
  
"Jack? Are you awake?" Ana-Maria asked. She sat up, Jacks tanned arm sliding off her skin and onto the bed. She bit her lip, watching his sleeping face. She leant over, and opened her bedside draw. She pulled something out, and held it in her hands thoughtfully. An emerald glinted at its hilt angrily.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * ** 


	21. Types of Treasure

* * * * * ** * * * * **  
  
"Jack!" Turner yelled. The sound of the waves slapping the hull of the ship was so loud that Jack didn't hear him. The deck was completely saturated, the wind tugging and pulling at the sails with rage. Angry clouds hung ominously in the sky overhead.  
  
Jack stood at the helm, the compass in his hand. He didn't know what it was about it, but it felt so right in his hand, the small black box almost inviting him to keep his hand on it at all times. And it seemed to be working. He didn't know if it was the magic that pulled the arrow of the compass, dragging it from left to right, or just plain luck, but the Portella had passed through the straits without so much as a scratch on it. And now, in the very distance, a land mass could be seen.  
  
"Jack," Turner repeated, bounding up the stairs. "Jack, we can't go on any further. The sails are ripped to shreds, and if we force the boat onwards anymore, she'll fall apart on us. Now that we're in clear waters, we should drop anchor and wait till the morning." Jack shook his head dismissively.  
  
"We have to go on." Turner grabbed his shoulder turning the boy to face him.  
  
"Jack we can't. Trust me on this one. The crew's dead, they need a rest." Jack looked down at the small group of pirates they'd amassed on their stop over two nights earlier. They looked beaten and defeated. Crow, who'd been listening to their conversation, yelled over the gale.  
  
"The treasure'll still be there in the morning." The other pirates chorused in agreement. Turner pulled Jack away, talking a fast, hushed voice.  
  
"Jack, we have to stop or they'll rise against you."  
  
"I have to go on." Jack said simply.  
  
"Aye lad, but the Portella stops here for the night. We can't go on in that mist, even if we get to the island, we'll get ripped apart by rocks that we won't be able to se." Turner said, pointing to the low hanging mist that was gathering on the horizon, obscuring the island from view. Jack paused, giving him a long frustrated look.  
  
"I'll go on alone then." Jack said, turning his eyes to the small row boat on deck. "And you guys will follow in the morning, right?" He questioned.  
  
"Aye Jack. We'll follow you in the morning. Just don't do anything rash, so we have something to pick up in the morning." Turner said, messing Jack's hair affectionately.  
  
"The Ile de Muerta." Jack whistled softly under his breath.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The winds let off once they were past the straights; the clouds still hanging grumpily overhead, but the waters became calmer. Jack rowed steadily, his arms aching already and he still had so far to go before he got to the island.  
  
He pulled out the compass again, checking he was going in the right direction. Without it, he would have got lost in mist hours ago. As it was, he knew he was getting closer and closer. He holstered his gun nervously. While this had seemed like a great plan earlier, to do a bit of scouting and footwork before the Portella sailed in as back up in the morning, it now seemed like a bit of a fool's mission.  
  
Jack nearly swallowed his tongue when a ship previously unseen rose out of the mist, its white sails limp. Beautifully crafted, its hull rose above Jack ominously, port holes like blinking eyes watching him as he sailed past the taunt anchor.  
  
"Thank god for this bloody mist." Jack said lowly. "Otherwise I'd be fish food by now."  
  
Not a sound came from the ship, other then the creaking of its wood. He rowed closer, so he could see the newness of the wood, the beautiful carvings that ran up her side, onto an eye-catching head piece with of a mermaid holding a dove.  
  
Closer now, he was able to his hand along the wood, before continuing to row, a low whistle escaping him. This was a beautiful ship, no doubt about it.  
  
But so silent. He looked upwards, straining to see if he could see any one on deck. But there was no one, just an eerie quiet. Jack looked forward, to the gapping mouth of a cave.  
  
"They all must be in there." He muttered to himself, rowing away from the ship. He gave it one last look, mouthing the words painted on her hull to himself.  
  
"The Pearl."  
  
Ducking through the caves, clambering over falling rocks, he first heard the voices. Low, arguing voices. He peeped over a mass of boulders, his hand on his sword. Julia stood there, still dressed in her white cloak. He could see her red bodice underneath it and the soft sway of lace and cream that made up her petticoats.  
  
Her hair glinted like treasure underneath the hood of her cloak. Jack watched her lovingly for a moment, and then paused, taking in the scene. Julia stood on a raised stone, talking angrily at three men. Behind her was a chest, of grey marble, its lid shoved carelessly to one side. Inside, Jack could see the glint of gold.  
  
Aztec gold.  
  
"No one bloody touches the gold till I say so." Julia said angrily. Jack frowned. That didn't sound like a kidnap victim. In fact.... behind her, sprawled on the floor, bound and gagged with blood spilling from his head, was Tom, his eyes livid with hatred.  
  
"Nice of you to join us, little pirate." A man said coming behind Jack, and something heavy clocked him on the head.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * 


	22. What can't be buried

* * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Black Pearl was still, having dropped anchor for the night. The moon, which had been so full and revealing a few nights before, had disappeared and was now just a white slice in the sky like a blinking eye. Movement could be heard from Will and Elizabeth's room, voices whispering in the dark. A candle still flickered there.  
  
Jack woke with someone sitting on him. He put his hands on her hips and grinned. Possibly one of the best ways be woken up, he thought happily.. Then he opened his eyes.  
  
Ana-Maria was sitting on him, holding a dagger in one hand, her face with a not-happy-jan expression.  
  
"Eh, luv?" Jack said with attempted friendliness. His hopeful face slowly faded away as Ana-Maria remained silent, holding the dagger a few inches from his chest. Jack stared at her hand, and then back at her face, and then at the dagger. Then it registered.  
  
The green emerald was still stuck in the hilt of the blade, the gold having lost some of its shine and the blade didn't look so sharp, but it was still the same dagger that he'd left her on the dock with ten years ago. In her other hand she had the strip of red fabric it had been wrapped it. She clenched the fabric in her fist, waving it in his face.  
  
"You bastard." She said. Jack looked confused. He remembered being naked with her, and everything being all cuddly. Except now, well, somehow he'd managed to piss her off while he slept. He licked his lips.  
  
"Um luv? Haven't we been through this?" He said hopefully. Maybe she'd just woken up disorientated, and would put down the pretty pointy thing and come to her senses. She widened her eyes. Jack nodded, moving his hand from her hips towards the dagger, but she raised it, moving as though she meant to stab him. Jack cringed.  
  
"Jack!" She said.  
  
"Uh huh?" He replied, scared, his eyes not moving from the dagger.  
  
"You left me this dagger that day." She said, a quiet rage flickering through her. "I swore I'd kill you with it, no matter how long it took." There was a silence, and Jack raised a finger questioningly.  
  
"Uh, Ana?"  
  
"What Jack?" She snapped.  
  
"What's going on?" He asked. She pursed her lips, and then relaxed, her shoulders dropping as though all the tension had flown out of her.  
  
"Jack, you swore for ten years that you'd find Barbossa and kill him. Well, I did the same thing. Ten years Jack since I saw you,"  
  
"Well, five, really," Jack said, halting her flow. "Since Acadia." He added, and then made a gesture like I'm-not-going-to-talk-anymore-you-talk.  
  
"And what do I do? I end up going to bed with you! It's weak!" She steamed. "You left me with this dagger, and a bloody scrap of material!" She yelled, the dagger dancing dangerously up and down. Jack grabbed her hand, and she looked at the dagger in it as though she'd never seen it before. Jack carefully prised it out of her hand.  
  
"It came from your head scarf, didn't it?" She said, showing him the material. He looked grave, and then nodded. Her eyes softened, and he placed the dagger on the bedside table. "What I thought was a token of. I don't know, that we were enemies, you paying me back for letting that man nearly hit you with the dagger, it was.."  
  
"My way of saying I'd come back." Jack said quietly.  
  
"But you didn't!" She scowled. He took her hands.  
  
"But I meant to."  
  
"Jack," She said, burying her head in his chest. "What am I meant to do? The only thing I planned to do for ten years was to kill you. And now.now you're here."  
  
"Ana, Ana luv!" He said, trying to get her attention, stroking her hair. "All you have to do now is stay. Here, on the Pearl." She looked up, and he stroked the path of her tears down her face. "You don't chase someone for ten years unless they really mean something to you, luv. I know." He said meaningfully.  
  
"I didn't think I'd ever be able to forgive you." She said seriously.  
  
"Why did you, luv?" He asked, watching her face as he lay immobile against the pillow.  
  
"Because. because you're more important. This," She touched his chest, and then her own. "This is more important then something that happened ten years ago." She said bluntly.  
  
Then she paused, and looked thoughtful.  
  
"Does that mean, you and Barbossa were?" She trailed off. Jack shook his head, not understanding. "Well, you know, I chased you cause. well, were you and Barbossa, you know." She made a complicated gesture with her hand.  
  
"What? No!" He said, shocked.  
  
"Oh, come on, you know, you wear eyeliner, he had that thing with the apples." She said bobbing her head.  
  
"Ana-Maria!" Jack interrupted, his eyes widening with horror. She laughed, tossing her hair back over her shoulder.  
  
"I've shocked the unshockable Captain Jack Sparrow." She said, kissing him, and tugging on his lip slightly with her teeth.  
  
"Dirty mind you have, though I must say having you as a first mate makes much more pleasurable company then having Barbossa." He joked slyly. She paused, breaking away.  
  
"Does that mean.." She said worriedly. He growled, pulling he into another kiss.  
  
"And Ana?"  
  
"Hmm?" She said, kissing her way down his chest.  
  
"No more wake up calls with knifes please." He said. "For once, I'd like to be woken up with maybe a little shake, or a breakfast in bed."  
  
"Aye, aye Captain." She murmured.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * 


	23. Betrayers and Mutineers

I know! I've been evil, and my updates have been on and of, and I've started writing a whole other story about Jack, which I know, evil. I'm sorry. I promise to update more regularly. Thank you to all my reviewers who've stuck with me through this bizarre twisted working of my mind. I saw POTC last night, again, and added a few more bits and pieces in, and does anyone have any idea why he had that stupid bit of wood in his hair? It's really not cool. Anyway, please read and review, this is the chapter I had to sit down and think about for ages. Evil, evil ff, taking me away from my study.  
  
jackfan2: Thank you for your review, I'm glad that you were able to forgive Jack, I thought maybe people would turn on him for that, but I still love him. And hello? He's a Pirate. Thank you for adding me to your authors list! (does an excited dance.) Thank you all other reviewers too, you know who are. xoxoxo  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
"Is he awake yet?" Jack heard through the blackness of unconsciousness. Someone was shaking him. The woman sounded angry, her voice curt. Oh well, that's not unusual when it came to Jack. His mouth felt dry, like he'd been eating cotton wool.  
  
"I really need a drink." He moaned. He blinked open his eyes, taking in his surroundings. He was lying on his back on one of the stepping-stones in the cavern. Ice water trickled on either side of him. A man with a blonde beard and a small unpleasant mouth stood over him with an expression of disgust. Jack made a face and attempted to sit up.  
  
"Julia, you're here." He said blearily. Julia placed her hands on her hips irritably. "And you not kidnapped." He said, rubbing his head.  
  
"Ah, good John. At least you're proving that you do have a brain." She said aggressively. "Where's my compass?" She asked.  
  
"In my pocket." He said dazedly. The man with the blonde beard reached over, digging into his pocket and retrieving the black box. "Oye!" Jack yelled.  
  
The other three men stood around grimly, one leaning on the edge of his gun. The blonde man tossed it to Julia.  
  
She flipped it open, checking its needle, and then closed it, sliding it into a pocket in her coat. Jack felt breathing behind him, and turned his head to gaze into Tom's panicked eyes. The blood wound on his head was giving of a sickly sent, congealed black blood dripping slowly down his forehead.  
  
"I see you've noticed Tom's currant state. It's most unfortunate really, the whole thing." Julia said, stepping daintily onto the rock with Jack and Tom on it. She grabbed Tom's chin ungently, turning his face up to look at her. She shrugged pulling of the gag and thrusting his head back towards the rock.  
  
"You bitch." Tom spluttered. "You calculating, manipulative bitch." Julia tutted reproachfully.  
  
"Now, Tom, you know this is really your fault, don't you?" She wound the piece of material that had been gagging Tom around her hands as she spoke. "You see Jackie, can I call you Jackie? That's what that nice black pirate wench called you." She said, braking of her train of thought. "Ah the things that must have happened to you little Johnny. A pirate captain." She said, tilting her head thoughtfully. "How barbaric."  
  
Jack shrugged, his head still heavy, trying to take in what was going on. It seemed better, for the moment, to remain quiet. But he was starting to have the sickening feeling that he'd been played here.  
  
"Well, Jackie, a lot's changed at home since you left too." She said, concentrating on the gag in our hands. "You see, Daddy's decided that you'd make a better heir then me or Tom, being his 'one true love child.'" She said mockingly with inverted brackets around it. "And he's renounced our inheritance, claiming that everything's to go to you, if you were still alive. No, wait, correction, he's renounced MY inheritance. Tom still gets his, once your dead." She said pleasantly, her voice not raising a decibel. Except Jack's ears were starting to pound.  
  
"Dead...." He said unsurely. Tom next to him coughed, splattering blood on the rock. He laughed rolling over.  
  
"Why don't you tell him the truth, Julia? Dad worked out that you were just another whore and decided that he didn't want a thing to do with you." "Quite." Julia said tartly. "So Tommy here came up with a great idea, for us to go after this treasure, because he had this compass that and this map and everything was going to be peachy, cause Dad'll be so thankful when we bring home all this gold." She said, sarcastically stressing some words.  
  
"So Tom here tells Dad that I've gotten kidnapped by pirates, and that he's going to chase after them on daddy's ship, the Pearl, to rescue me." She said, her face loosing some of its sweetness, a rigidity passing over her pleasant features. "Except Tom here, half way through the Caribbean, decides that he likes sailing and that, what was it you said Tom?" She said, giving him a kick to the ribs. Tom replied by coughing blood on her boots.  
  
Julia pulled a face, frowning down at her ruined shoes. She sighed and continued.  
  
"Tom decides that he wants to be a pirate. Doesn't ever want to go home." She sniffed, and turned back to Jack, who had just realised that his arms weren't just bruised, they were bound behind his back. He blinked, trying to remain conscious.  
  
"That didn't suit me at all." She said and then smiled, looking at the four other men in the cavern, beaming at them. "So me and my boys here came up with a different plan. Where I kill Tom here, and we divide the gold up between us." She paused, letting the full impact of the words hit home. Then she waved her hands, filling in the rest of the details as though they bored her.  
  
"Then the boys drop me at the nearest town, the gold divvied up, and sail of into the sunset together to become swashbuckling pirates themselves. I catch a boat home, and I get Tom's inheritance, and have all this nice gold to live in England with, rather then that hole of a town in Mexico. And I'll become a real lady." She said wistfully, a glint of madness in her voice.  
  
"Everyone's happy. Well, except for Tom who we kill, and the other pirates on the Pearl that we've already poisoned." She added.  
  
Jack grinned uneasily.  
  
"Yeah. Go team." He said, wriggling slightly against his bonds. He could feel the rope on his hands untying slightly.  
  
"See John, I could always rely on you for your optimism and your unconditional support." She smiled, running her hand over the gold. She didn't pick one up though, just smiled coldly at the glinting medallions. Jack looked at the box, which he'd thought way plain grey marble, actually had inlayed gold dancing figures. He shivered. So this was a real pirates treasure. "Seeing you John was actually just a bonus." Julia continued, oblivious. "When I take your body home to father, saying you were the pirate that kidnapped me, and that you killed darling Tommy and sunk his ship, he'll have no chose but to give me everything. Especially with Tom here dead and everything." She walked over to Tom, kneeling down beside him.  
  
"Julia..." Jack started, as she pulled out a blade. Tom, who had passed out again, opened his eyes when he felt his sister's hand on his forehead.  
  
"Ah, dear Tom, my dear old chum." She said, stroking his hair.  
  
"You bitch Julia, how could you do this.." She drove the blade across his throat neatly, his eyes widening with pain and shock. He rasped for breath for a moment, and bubble of blood foaming from his mouth. His chest arched back and Julia stood unmoved. Then his eyes glazed over. Jack watched; horror, like a bucket of cold water, flooding his senses.  
  
"Hmm." She said, tilting her head. "You know, I was wondering, are you actually Sir Daniel's son?" She asked.  
  
"Yeah, out of wedlock." Jack said.  
  
"Wow. We're lucky to have missed out on incest then." She mused, wiping the blood on her hands onto Tom's shirt.  
  
"Yeah." Jack agreed sadly.  
  
"Huh." She shook her head and continued her grand scheme, now playing with the knife between her fingers. "Anyway, now that your captain, it works even better. I kill you, row out to your ship in your boat, and tell your crew that Tom killed you. By the pirate code, see I've done my homework," She interjected proudly, "they'll have to take their captain's body to wherever he wants to be buried, which luckily for me, is in your sweet little home town in Mexico. And I'll about two hundred Aztec gold trinkets under my bodice." She grinned.  
  
"I don't want to be buried in Mexico." Jack said affronted. Julia rolled her eyes.  
  
"After that whole story, that's the thing you pick out to question? What about all the other details that could have gone wrong, like what if you'd brought your whole crew in here? Where did Tom get the map and compass? How did I plan to get all the gold home?" She said violently, kicking Jack in the ribs. Jack gasped with pain. "Does no one realise how bloody hard I worked to get this plan perfect?" She yelled, her voice echoing up around the cavern like a banshee's wail. The other men shifted uncomfortably.  
  
She sheathed her knife.  
  
"Tis a grand plan to be sure," Jack panted, gasping for air and rolling onto his side. "But there's one little flaw in it."  
  
"What?" She said, pulling him up by his hair. He looked into her eyes, and saw madness in them. She wasn't driven by mere greed, the very foundations of her personality were unstable.  
  
"I didn't bring the ship with me. You see," Jack leered. "I'm not really a captain." He smiled briefly.  
  
"What?" She repeated, her voice small. She dropped Jack angrily. "You're the captain of the Portella. You told me so." She said disbelievingly.  
  
"No, see," Jack, said raising himself up to sitting. "It was more, Ana- Maria that told you so, and she's the actual captain. There's no ship in the bay." He paused, hoping at least if he could dislodge her plans momentarily, he wouldn't end up like Tom there. He didn't want to mention that in fact, the ship was coming in the morning.  
  
He prayed Turner wouldn't turn up early.  
  
"I can't carry your dead body back on a passenger liner." She said defensively. "You have to have bought your ship."  
  
"Well," Jack said. "I didn't." He raised his eyebrows with the inflection of 'duh.'  
  
"You have to have." She said, kicking him and hitting his head, until it felt like his ribs were breaking. Then she stopped, flicking her blonde hair off her face and straightening it over her shoulder.  
  
"Okay, new plan. The Pearl takes me and Jack's body here back to Mexico, and everyone's happy." She said, twitching her neck slightly.  
  
"Uh, we can't go back to Mexico. Then we won't be able to keep the ship." One of the men said. He turned to the other three. "I say we take all the gold, take the ship.." He didn't finish his sentence, a shot sounding loud in the cavern. The man opened and closed his mouth once or twice, the bullet whole between his eyes opening and starting to trickle blood.  
  
"Any one else not like my plan?" Julia asked coolly. One of the other men dashed to the fallen mans side.  
  
"You shot my brother, you bitch." The man placed his hand on his sword. Another shot wrung out, and that man fell to the ground, shuddering with pain. Julia glared at the other two.  
  
"Divide the gold into three, how bout it boys?" They glanced at each other, estimating the amount of time it would take them to draw their guns, and whether they trusted the lady more then each other.  
  
They nodded.  
  
Jack looked from the two fallen men, to Tom's unmoving body beside him.  
"You're mad. You poisoned the entire crew on the ship. That's why it was so quiet. Then you killed your brother, and then you killed two of the men that were mutinying with you! That's insane." He yelled, realising he'd gotten his hands free. But he couldn't move, his arms felt like they were broken, and he was winded.  
  
"I like to call it genius, thank you." She said, turning her back on him. "You two, grab the chest, and take it to the row boat." They shuffled off. Jack wanted to move his arms, but he couldn't, his body wasn't responding.  
  
Julia smiled down at Jack sadly. She saddled his chest heavily. This would have been fun, Jack mused, if she hadn't been pointing the gun at his temple.  
  
"I'm sorry to involve you in this snookums. We had fun while it lasted." She said coldly. * * * * * * * * * * * * 


	24. You forgot one thing, mate

* * * * * * * * * * * *  
Jack closed his eyes, trying to think of something worthwhile in his life, some happy last thoughts. He didn't want his last thoughts to be damn I wish I'd had time to grow a beard.  
  
"What are you thinking John?" Julia asked, pausing for one last look at her lover.  
  
"That I promise I'll plait my beard if I get out of here." He said, opening one eye hopefully. She laughed, and tilted her head.  
  
"Say good by my little Captain Sparrow." She said.  
  
But the bullet never came. Behind them, out on the ocean, the sound of a cannon boomed. The two men, who had just managed to raise the chest of the ground, dropped it again. They spun around, gazing out to the entrance to the cavern.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Julia asked them angrily, jumping up off Jack. "You, Ricardo, go find out what it was." She yelled, pointing to the man with the blonde beard. He darted away on the rocks She swung back around, her hair trailing after her like a sheath of gold.  
  
"You said you didn't bring your ship!" She said angrily. "You lying piece of scum."  
  
"I didn't." Jack declared, bringing his hands out to his chest defensively. He looked down at them shocked. "Hey, I got my hands free." He said, before swinging his leg and knocking Julia of her feet. She tripped backwards, falling into the rushing water with a sickening crack.  
  
Jack leap to his feet, grabbing for her fallen gun, when the other man came up behind him. He grabbed Jack's shoulder, spinning him round and knocking him to the floor, so that Jack lay on his back beneath him. Jack's arm darted backwards, scrabbling for the gun, and brought it up into the man's face.  
  
The man made a sort of "OH" face, before Jack fired. He stumbled backwards, his face now a patchwork of things that should be on the inside, tripped over Tom's body, and falling face down into the water. The water turned a dull black, and in the moon light, it was shown for what it really was.  
  
Blood.  
  
Jack paused, momentarily horrified at the gruesome death, and then got to his feet again, dusting off his pants. He turned and scowled to see Julia rising out of the water with the expression of a wet cat.  
  
"You know, I think everyone's right, you are a bitch." Jack said.  
  
"Oh, and your just catching on?" Julia said sulkily. She wrung out the sleeve of her clock primly, sighing. She touched her hair cautiously, and frowned.  
  
"John, you ruined everything." She whined. She moved as though to pick up the compass, which had fallen onto the rock but Jack darted forward, pointing the gun in her face.  
  
"I think that's mine, lassie. Call it payment for services rendered." He said, grabbing the compass. She raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Oh, don't act like a spurned lover John. Doesn't suit you." She said scathingly. "Come on, me and Ricardo can't sail the Pearl all by ourselves. Give you half the gold, okay?" She said indifferently, making to step out of the waters onto the rocks.  
  
"No. Julia, you can't buy me. And that's the Portella out there and I've gutta return her." He said, grinning. "But you, maybe I'll leave you here, and you can see if you can eat gold." He said with dead seriousness.  
  
The blonde haired man appeared, out of breathe, glancing at the turn of events with a kind of despair. Jack pointed the gun at him, and then at Julia again. Julia growled, her well-manicured hair sticking to her clothing.  
  
"It's the Navy. The navy's out there battling another boat. They're both going to sink." Julia and Jack both turned around, their eyes wide.  
  
"The Navy?" Julia whispered.  
  
"Oh, bloody hell, the Portella. She'll kill me if it sinks." Jack said, once again managing to grasp the least relevant fact.  
  
"Come on, let's grab the gold and get the hell out of here." Ricardo yelled. Jack paused, thoughtfully eying the gold. He jumped at the sound of yet another shot. He spun back round, pointing his gun at Julia, and her pointing another one right back at him.  
  
Ricardo fell wordlessly to the floor.  
  
"If I'm not taking the gold out of here, no one is." She said. Jack looked at her incredulously.  
  
"Oh my god, could you be any more of a bitch?" He yelled, keeping his gun steady.  
  
"John or Jack or whatever the hell your name is, lets take the row boat, and sail back to the Pearl." She said evenly.  
  
"Not when you're bloody going to shoot me in the back." He yelled, buckling under the stress. "Could you shoot anymore of your own men?"  
  
"It was double or nothing, and I lost. Now lets get back to the Pearl," She said.  
  
"Fine. But we're leaving the gold." He said. Her eyes moved from the chest and the medallions inside back to Jack again.  
  
"Fine. Whoever survives the night, can come back for it. I'll put down my gun first, as a sign of good faith." She said, lowering her gun. Jack didn't move, though the sounds of the cannons in the background were getting louder. "Lower your gun Jack."  
  
"No fucking way." He said smoothing. He kicked hers into the water. "Get in the boat Julia." He followed behind her as she made her way to the boat; careful not to get distracted by the way she walked. She did so wordlessly, her perfect mouth forming an O and a pout. Jack followed her, careful to keep her in guns sight at all times. "Now row." He ordered. She glared at him.  
  
"You row."  
  
"Julia, whose got the gun?" He asked patiently.  
  
"I'm not rowing." He closed his eyes for a moment, and then thought the better of it, thinning them at her.  
  
"Julia. Just. Row."  
  
"I'll rock paper scissor you for it?" She said grinning. Jack nodded as if to agree and then shook his head in disgust.  
  
"No, that would be me putting down the gun. You row, I point the gun, okay?" He said, proud he hadn't got tricked.  
"Fine." She said sulkily.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * 


	25. The blackest pearl

* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The battle scene outside was not a pleasant one. Jack stared open mouthed at the Portella and the Naval ship as they stood side by side, showering each other with cannon balls. The hull of the Portella was looking damaged, her beautiful windows cracked and bleeding. The naval ship wasn't looking good either, and as they watched, the central mast fell crashing down, falling onto the Portella and causing damage there.  
  
Both were starting to take on water.  
  
"What do we do?" Julia asked, for the first time lost for answers. Jack started to say something rude, and then looked at her. She just looked like a lost girl, young and vulnerable, all the charm stripped from her face. She looked tired, and her mascara was starting to flake.  
  
"We'll go to the Pearl, until the battle stops." He said comfortingly. She couldn't take her eyes away from the scene. He placed his hand on her knee and she jumped. "It'll be alright."  
  
"Huh? Yeah." She said, watching the naval ship. She started rowing again, towards the silent Pearl.  
  
About halfway out, equal distance between the battle and the Pearl, she whacked Jack of the little rowboat with one of her oars. He fell head first into the water, lucky to not have been knocked unconscious by the blow.  
  
"Sorry Jack, I'm going to throw my lot in with the Navy." She said, picking up the pistol he dropped and pointing down at him.  
  
"You'll get killed." He yelled, the water splashing his face and filling his mouth. She shrugged.  
  
"Better to die a free lady, then to be court of a pirate ship." She said and then gestured to the Pearl. "Go, get out here."  
  
"You're a bitch and a half, you know that right?" He said, treading water, starting to swim away from the boat and her loaded pistol.  
  
"I know." She said with a shrug. "See ya round Jacko."  
  
He pulled himself onto the ship, climbing up the rope attached to the anchor, dropping onto the silent deck. The sight that greeted him was horrific.  
  
Sailors, pirates, men in uniform, each one dead. Poisoned, slumped over a card game or a wash bucket. Silent bodies, collapsed as though in sleep, their heads turned at awkward angles, their eyes open. Jack stepped gracefully over one body, his eyes unreadable.  
  
"A ship filled with death when I find it," He muttered. Then he looked out onto the battle. "And two sinking ships. Oh, she's gunna kill me." He muttered as he watched the Portella shudder. He could see Turner on deck, locked in battle. He made a giant wave with his body.  
  
"Oye! Come here!" He yelled pitiably. "Don't sink the Portella!" He looked around for a sign, a distraction. He shoved one of the bodies from where it lay slumped over a cannon, covering his ears as he lit the fuse. The cannon sounded, and Jack looked over to see a hundred heads turn his way.  
  
"Pirates! Turner, its Jack! Come here!" He yelled. What he saw next made him want to sob with relief and then frustration when he worked out why. The pirates were all abandoning ship, swimming through the inky waters towards the Pearl. The Portella swelled, fire glinting in her lower bowls, and then exploding, shooting bits of wood everywhere.  
  
The Navy ship gave one cry of triumph and then a groan. Jack saw all the red coats following the pirates suit, diving overboard. The Navy ship was sinking, sinking fast.  
  
"Jack! Help an old man out of the water!" He heard a cry from the deck. Turner was there, gazing up at Jack, swimming gracelessly towards the ship.  
  
"What the hell happened? Thought you weren't coming till morning."  
  
"Bit of a change of plan. Ran into a Navy ship, and she chased us all the way here."  
  
"I see you're still alive!" Jack said proudly.  
  
"Ah well, you know there weren't any Bootstraps in that battle," Turner joked, grinning as he dog paddled.  
  
By the time most of the surviving pirates had gotten onto the ship, Turner and Sparrow had prepared it for sailing.  
  
"Come on, I want to get out of this cursed bay." Sparrow muttered. He looked out onto the water, where bits of burning wood and pieces of the Portella still lingered. Through the mist, they could just see the tip of the Naval ship as it sunk below water. And out there, pulling navy officers onto her little rowboat, he could see Julia's white cloak and a glint of blonde hair.  
  
Jack went up to helm, touching her for the first time.  
  
"Lets get out of this mist, and find a horizon." He crooned. The other pirates nodded into muted correspondence.  
  
Only Barbossa, drenched and miserable argued.  
  
"What about the gold? The treasure." He said. "We'll never find out way back in the morning, we'll get lost in the mist." Jack tossed the compass in his hand and grinned. He looked down at Barbossa, putting his arm around his frail shoulders.  
  
"Don't worry my lad, Captain Jack Sparrow will find it again." He said cockily.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
They emerged from the fog beaten and weary, and penniless for their journey. They berthed at the nearest port, drowning their sorrows in ale and pleasurable company, those that could afford it.  
  
When they were less disheartened, they came back to their ship to find Jack humming, his eyes glinting with devotion as he repaired the ship, never moving far from the helm.  
  
And he'd had it renamed.  
  
"The Black Pearl?" Turner said. "Don't let Ana-Maria hear that name."  
  
"Why? What's it got to do with her?" Jack said, perplexed. They'd heard not a hide or tail from Ana-Maria, she seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. For about month, around every corner and in every bar, Jack had thought he saw her face, saw the slap coming his way. He didn't know whether he feared it or hoped for it.  
  
But it didn't come. They'd even gone back to that port, the one they'd stolen the Portella from, but she wasn't there. Nor was any of the crew, except a still drunk Carlos who they left on the docks.  
  
And the hoard was empty. One or the other of the pirates had gotten there, and taken the lot. Jack hoped it was Ana-Maria.  
  
He grinned, tossing his arm around Turner's shoulder. "Come, old Bootstrap Bill, we're off to England."  
  
And so they were. But not just England, they sailed to Singapore, and Africa and Jack's old haunts in India. But usually, they stayed in the Caribbean.  
  
It felt like home.  
  
The Black Pearl sailed the seas for ten months with Jack as Captain, his guiding eye causing them to quickly become a feared pirate ship. And a wealthy one. They preyed of merchants, colonies and pirates alike, leaving few alive, cause there have to be a few to tell the tales, Jack always said.  
  
And Jack had his ship. Never before had he felt so free. With his hand on the helm and then wind in his hair, he finally understood what Ana- Maria had been talking about. He understood why being a captain was worth fighting for, worth dying for. He listened to the call of the sea, to the hoots of gulls and fell in love with having the taste of salt on his lips.  
  
For ten months, he also avoided the call of the Aztec gold, of the crews increasing demands to reclaim it. He avoided Bootstraps sullen looks when he made the young lad Barbossa his first mate, because they understood each other so well, and because Turner was a family man. Well, these were the excuses Jack gave himself, and if he had another reason for not having Bootstrap as his first mate, he told no one.  
  
But after ten months, he agreed to go back to that place, to find Cortez's gold and the body of his younger brother.  
  
And the rest, the mutiny, and the loss of the Black Pearl, well, you already know that part.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * 


	26. The neverending dawn

You didn't really think I'd leave it there did you? * * * * * * * * * * *  
And Ana-Maria? Stranded, lost to the world for ten years. Ten years doesn't seem to matter, when you live them day-to-day, trying to survive. It would have been easier for her, to submerge beneath the riff-raff, to find her way to Tortugua, where all the lost women go to flaunt the little wares they have to the world.  
  
But Ana-Maria never took the easier way, the hopeless way. Her crew disbanded, her men casting her knowing looks, grumbling over their cups over the 'failure of women.' There was little to be said, really. Without a ship, her family and the life as she knew it fell apart. The crew went after the hoard, leaving her penniless and alone.  
  
Her hatred for Jack fuelled her, but more then anything, her desire to understand what had gone through his mind that day. Especially when she heard the gossip, carried by the wind and salt to sailor's ports far from Jack and his new ship, that he'd been betrayed. That he'd been lead into a treasureless trap.  
  
And that he'd sunk to Portella.  
  
It was gone. There was no golden pursuit of it in her future, no goal that got her up every morning. Only a mixed embarrassment towards the man she'd told she loved the morning he had betrayed her. A man who' undertaken one of the most dangerous rescue missions she'd ever heard of, at her expense.  
  
So she didn't confront him. She didn't have the words to confront him.  
  
She let the winds take her, scatter the years of her life, take her from port to port. She did odd jobs on ships, her face covered and her breasts bound. But the ocean, though it still held its thrall on her, reminded her too much of the past. And so she fled from it.  
  
And that's when she fell into thievery. Working in the shadows, pick pocketing and black jacking until she found something better. She was one of the best, her hands quicker, her built inconspicuous and her face easily forgotten.  
  
And then Jack had saved her from the gallows. The old feeling, the one she'd been trying to bury inside herself as lust or to cover with anger, broke out a new.  
  
There had been others of course, men taken out of desperation, or out of a common alliance. But to often they wanted something of her, information, or privileges or commitment. None of these things she was able to give. Once you've been burnt, it's easy to avoid the fire all together, even if it means you receive no warmth from it.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
Jack and Ana-Maria stood at the Helm of the Black Pearl.  
  
Ten years had changed them both. He was no longer the plucky lad of sixteen, who seemed to have fate slap him in the face at every turn.  
  
He was indescribable.  
  
And she was not what she had been, no longer a captain, no longer the lonely hellcat she had been. Like the ocean herself, the winds and the weather still made Ana-Maria capricious and dangerous, and she still had a wicked tongue, but she had a deep-seated calmness now that couldn't be shaken.  
  
It was easy with Jack; she knew that, to forget about the past, to live for the minute, for the constant banter. But it wasn't just that when she was with him, she saw the love of the sea that she'd instilled in him and all the possibilities that she'd lost. And it felt like he was teaching her to regain them.  
  
And she knew where she was going.  
  
She was going with Jack.  
  
Jack passed her the rum, the early morning breeze ruffling her hair and clanging his beads. He rested one hand on the helm possessively. Ana-Maria leant against the railing, leaning back over it so the wind court her hair.  
  
"It's like having Turner back, isn't it Jack?" Ana-Maria said, watching Elizabeth and Will canoodling further down the ship. Elizabeth said something to Will, and he laughed, his stern face relaxed, his heart lightened.  
  
"Old Bootstrap? Yeah, it is a bit." He said pensively. He pursed his lips, watching the lovers. He thought suddenly of how much Elizabeth had reminded him, on that first day when he plucked her out of the ocean, of Julia. Of how her blonde hair falling over her face and the pirate trinket had only strengthened the image. And yet Elizabeth had not been for him. Maybe Julia had never been either.  
  
Ana-Maria passed the rum back to Jack, and he slipped it back into his pocket. She reached out to hold his hand where it rested on the wheel.  
  
"You still miss him?" She asked.  
  
"Yeah, a bit. Who would thought, me, you and Turner's son and a bottle of rum."  
  
"Jack, I think you mean Elizabeth, not a bottle of rum."  
  
"Ah, yes." Jack said guiltily. "Will's so much like Bootstrap." Jack added thoughtfully. "When we were fighting Barbossa, it was like back in the old days, me and Bootstrap, I knew he had my back no matter what." Ana-Maria's hand squeezed his.  
  
"We can't keep them." She said, referring Elizabeth and Will, with a small shake of the head. Jack grinned, and gave Ana-Maria an affectionate whack to the head, drawing her to lean on his shoulder.  
  
"Nope. Gunna have to return them." He agreed. Elizabeth caught Jack's eye and waved, her blonde hair blowing softly in the wind. Jack grinned, flashing her his teeth. Ana-Maria looked thoughtful.  
  
"They're going to be sublimely happy aren't they? And there's no way we can stop it." She said. Jack laughed, and pulled her body to his, feeling the soft small of her back beneath his arm, and the flutter of her hair against his chest.  
  
"No way in hell we can stop it." He agreed.  
  
"We're just going to have to kill them." Ana-Maria joked with a small shake of the head. Jack grinned again.  
  
"Something like that." His eyes grew distant as he spun the wheel at little, changing their coarse, so they sailed towards the pink smudge rising sun. Then Jack started to hum.  
  
"Da, da,da, da,da,da, We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, and loot," He crooned crudely. Ana-Maria made a face, pulling away from him slightly.  
  
"Don't sing that song." Ana-Maria said with a shake of her head.  
  
"Why not? It's a good song!" Jack replied indignantly. "Elizabeth taught it to me!" He glared down at Ana-Maria, affronted.  
  
"Jack, it's a terrible song. I've never heard a worse song." She said laughing softly.  
  
"What? It's brilliant." Jack said shocked.  
  
"Jack, it gives pirates a terrible name," She said.  
  
"But that's what we do! We do pillage and plunder and bloody loot" He cried out. "Its about us! It's a song about pirates. It's a great song!" She turned her head away.  
  
"Jack, it says we smell like bad eggs. It's just not a classy song." Jack frowned, sniffing Ana-Maria, and pulling a face. Ana whacked his on the arm.  
  
"Well, I like it." He sulked.  
  
"Fine sing it." She leant up and made to kiss him on the cheek. He pulled her into a long kiss and ruffled her hair. She wrapped her arm around his waist once more, and leant her head against his chest, listening to the thud of his heart.  
  
"Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho." He continued, unfazed.  
  
And the Black Pearls dark sails fluttered against the soft wind of the Caribbean, it's beauty mirrored in the clear unbroken waters. And it sailed forward, into the cool blue light of the new day, into a new dawn. * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
And that's it. Except for one last word......... 


	27. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
"Jack? What are we doing here?" Ana-Maria asked, her hands stretched out in front of her while Jack lea her across the beach. A red blindfold was tied around her eyes, and she kept tripping up in the sand.  
  
"Ana-Maria, we came back to Port Royal to drop Lizzie and Will off. You know that." He said, grinning. He'd taken to calling Elizabeth Lizzie, rolling the 'Z' with an unbearably evocative way that had the new groom slightly worried.  
  
"Jack!" She yelled, trying to hit him, but he darted out of the way and she ended up just hitting thin air. "I mean, why are we on this beach?" He raised his hands, which of course she couldn't see, so the whole gesture was wasted.  
  
"We're here, luv," He said, removing her blind fold from her eyes, revealing the view of the night waters, with the reflections of the stars overhead and a heavy moon rippling in the water. "Because you asked to be here, savvy?"  
  
She gaped at the beauty of the spot, and then turned to Jack, still confused.  
  
"When, Jack, did I ask you to bring me to beach at midnight?" Jack raised a wine bottle, passing it to Ana-Maria who was still shaking her head in a daze.  
  
"We're having a romantic walks on the beach, like you so desired, poppet." He said, grinning, raising his eye brows suggestively. A beaming smile formed on Ana-Maria's face.  
  
"You bought me to the beach, for a moonlight walk?" She asked slowly. Jack nodded, a little unsurely. He was surprised when she flung her arms around him, wine bottle and all. He winced slightly as the wine bottle connected with his shoulder, and then grinned. His eyes darted from side to side, feeling Ana-Maria's sparsely covered, summer garbed body pressed up against him.  
  
"Ah," He said. "Now I understand why Will does it." Ana-Maria released him, still grinning. They sat down on the sand, kicking off their shoes and feeling the white powder between their toes. Jack opened the wine. They passed the bottle back and forth between them (like Jack would bring glasses).  
  
"You know, this is the first time in a long time that I've really looked at the stars?" Ana-Maria said. She lay with her head on Jack's stomach, fiddling with his hands.  
  
"One day, we'll go there." Jack said between gulps.  
  
"Where?" She said, looking over at him.  
  
"To the stars. One day, you and me, and we'll take Elizabeth and Will I guess, and we'll go to the stars." He said pompously. "Just have to think of a way..." He said, tapping his temple. Ana-Maria laughed.  
  
"Jack! No more wine for you." She said, taking it off him. He shouted, as she got up, and he chased after her. She giggled as he wrapped his arm around her waist, flinging her to the sand. She fell back, the wine bottle dropped forgotten.  
  
"John," Came the silverly laughter from behind them. Jack Sparrow froze, his face, his face, which was about an inch from Ana-Maria's broke into a grimace. He swung his head around.  
  
"Yes?" He said theatrically.  
  
Behind them stood Julia, her shoes in one hand, and a servant girl beside her. In her other hand she held the edge of her dress, an expressive French affair of gold silk and pale blue trimmings. She took a few ginger steps towards Jack, her hand on her mouth.  
  
"John, is that you?" She laughed again. "Oh, dear. Funny old world isn't it. I'm visiting to Governor Swann, to celebrate his daughter's marriage. And you." She giggled, her hand over her mouth. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. A simple pirate still." She shook her head, and then broke into a serious face. "So good seeing you John. You've done so well for yourself." She tittered, and walked past them, nearly doubling up with laughter.  
  
Jack face was contorted with fury. He reached down for his gun, his hands twitching. He scrambled to his feet, slipping on the soft sand.  
  
"Jack, you can't shoot her." Ana-Maria called. But Jack was off, half running, half storming after Julia on the sand. He pulled something out of his pocket, something small and black. He scowled, and threw it hard at her. It connected with the back of her head with a dull thump. It bounced off, landing on the edge of the water, where the waves lapped at it softly. Julia staggered, and dropped her shoes as she fell on her knees on the sand.  
  
"Ow!" She turned around indignantly. "Did you just throw something at my head, John?"  
  
"It's captain. Captain Jack Sparrow." He said with a drunken slur, before turning on his heel and swaggering back towards Ana-Maria, who was trying to contain her laughter. He fell on his knees before her, his hands on her cheeks, pulling her into a passionate embrace.  
  
Julia watched for a moment, outrage obvious in her eyes. Then she turned, and continued her walk without another word, with Ana-Maria's peels of laughter following her.  
  
"Did you just throw that compass at her head?" Ana-Maria asked. Jack fell back on the sand, his hands behind his head. He nodded, grinning.  
  
"Are you telling me you carried that compass she gave you around for ten years so you could throw it at her?" He nodded again. Ana-Maria fell on him, kissing him and laughing, her black hair forming a veil around his face.  
  
"I love you Jack," She said in-between kisses. He grinned very characteristically, his ringed fingers pushing through her hair and stealing their way down her body.  
  
"That's very interesting," He purred, rolling her over in the sand. "And now for a good fu...." He said, gazing down at some of Ana-Maria's more interesting assets. She put her hand over his mouth, and then replaced her hand with her mouth.  
  
"Don't ruin the romance." She murmured against his lips. She ran her finger down his scraggy jaw line, as he twisted her over so her back was against the sand.  
  
"Yes, um, romance." Jack said sneakily.  
  
The sound of the waves attempted to drown out Ana-Maria's giggles, and Jack's growls, and wiped clear the footprints of the day. And only the stars bore witness to Jack Sparrow's attempt at a 'romantic walk to the beach,' which didn't contain a lot of walking.  
  
And dragged by the waves, pushed under the sand, the compass to the Ile De Muerta lay still and forgotten.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
I'd like to thank all my kind reviewers, and to people like kingleby, Jackfan2 and my reviewer from Holland who gave me on going thoughts and encouragement. And to all my reviewers who gave me the courage to keep posting when you are about the ONLY people I've ever let read anything I wrote. And thank you to Disney for giving me such fun characters to play with. Thank you so much for bearing with me, and my rabbling self. I'd like to say I've written this fan fiction with an open mind, and one rule. Jack never tells Ana-Maria or anyone else that he loves them, even when he's drunk because the Jack I know never would.  
  
Please read my next, roughish, sequel to "The Making of Jack Sparrow", called "Ever Afters" set a few years later, though I must warn you it's a darker ficlet that I'm writing. Peace, love, and all that shit. Lol. Well, that's the end folks, but you know it's not really the end. It never is.  
  
Fin. 


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